Smells Like Bohemian Spirit
by FabulouslyFreeSpirited
Summary: Modern AU. Based around Les Amis, a rock band with political leanings, the story is inspired by Les Miserables, the Occupy Movement and Almost Famous. The characters are based in looks & core personality on the 2012 version of Les Miserables. Lots of angst. Enjolras/Eponine/Barricade Boys. Tons of music references, with some spice and lemons. First time writer.
1. Chapter 1

Eponine hurried along the street, determined not to miss the rehearsal for the band. Though she wasn't a part of the group, it lightened her heart to know that Marius would be there. As ever, he would be oblivious to her as she went on her way as bartender, making drinks for leering customers and cleaning up the remnants from their tables. Still she remained undeterred that one day, he would suddenly take notice of her.

She brushed those thoughts aside as she rushed along the streets of Greenwich Village, pulling her tattered leather coat around her thin frame. She sidestepped the buskers and pavement artists, all trying to make a buck from the passing tourist trade. "Bohemia, bohemia, how many artists have starved for you?" she mused, as she walked past the Village Voice headquarters.

Arriving at her destination, legendary Village venue, The Musain, she sighed her relief. Twenty minutes until her shift began. Time to brush out her hair, and fix the hole in her tattered fishnets. She pulled down on the short leather skirt she was wearing and her snug Zeppelin tee. Bartending here wasn't much of a job, but it provided her with closeness to music, which she surely loved and needs as much as one loves and needs the blood in their veins, and of course it was because of her job that she met Marius.

She looked over now to where he sat, huddled amongst the tables with the rest of the group as they ran through their set for the night. Les Amis was formed as many bands were, at University. In between art classes and legal studies, and the finer details of social studies. A growing anger was beginning to emerge as the gap between the classes widened and inequality reared its ugly head via the Financial Crisis on Wall Street. And it was there, in the halls of learning, a desire for the darkness to end began to rise.

In the dim light she could see them all, as they strummed guitars and set tonight's performance;

Enjolras, the pretty boy frontman of the band. His looks belied his passion for social equality though to Eponine he was aloof, always alone, even in a crowd. He was also almost disturbingly immune to the constant attention of the ever present groupies. He was magnetic in a way all frontmen should be though the few times he had actually registered her existence, she found his intimidating stare seeing things she did not wish to give away.

To his right, sat Combeferre, the lead guitarist and co-writer with Enjolras for the groups' music. Eponine smiled at the peace sign on his shirt, so at odds with the righteous fist in the air pictured on the shirt Enjolras was wearing.

Her eyes settled on Marius. For a girl who considered herself toughened, her attraction to the guy from the right side of the street unsettled her nerves. She couldn't think straight when he was around he was around, even going so far as to spill a drink on a customer when Marius had deigned to look her way. Yet he never really noticed her. Marius was the drummer for the band, and the subject of much teasing due to his habit of glomming on to any social media activism. He was mortified last year when the leader of the KONY 2012 campaign was seen wandering the streets, after Marius had spent countless hours plastering buildings with the movement's posters.

Jehan sat near Marius, penning a romantic ballad that he knew would never make it to the setlist. He was more Celine Dion than John Lennon, but thankfully his talents on the piano far outweighed his predilection for flowery love songs.

Courfeyrac and Feuilly had just arrived, hurriedly taking their places by the group just as Enjolras cued Marius to pound out a rhthym, and on the beat Enjolras raised his voice to sing, "Do you the hear the people sing, singing the songs of angry men, it is the music of a people who will not be slaves again"..and trailed off. "So", that's the start of it", he said to the group, "What do you think?".

Well it's no 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' but it's got the beginnings of something catchy", said Combeferre. Eponine smile ruefully and shook her mane of hair, she hoped all that inspiration would not lead the group to danger. Walking to the end of the bar, she signalled to the head waiter, Grantaire to bring the boys a round of drinks, bar Enjolras who had put in a standing order for water with a slice of lemon.

It was ironic that Grantaire was such an efficient server of alcohol, since his greatest claim to fame outside the club was being known as the biggest boozehound in the Village. And he was prone to appear at unlikely times, always when Les Amis were on the premises, but not always when he was scheduled to work. Again, another half-smile appeared on Eponine's face.

Time to go see if she could garner some attention from Marius….


	2. Chapter 2

Hey Marius", said Eponine, placing a coaster under his drink, "What's new with you?" She crouched down next to him looking at the crumpled notepad on which he and the band were running through tonight's show.

"Just the usual band stuff 'Ponine, he said, looking up only fleetingly. "Did you want to see the set list?"

Enjolras looked over at her with impatience. Damn this girl, what was it with her and Marius? As much as he enjoyed Marius' company, even he could see that the drummers' romantic appeal lay more with younger girls who followed bands like One Direction, than a hard rock band like Les Amis. Eponine was somewhat of a mystery to him, but in the brief moments they'd spoken; their conversations had been heavy with musical references and a shared love of classic hard rock. Her mind was like a veritable library of music, she knew every band, every song, and every lyric. Enjolras shook his head, trying hard not to listen to the conversation going on next to him.

"That would be great Marius, thanks" said Eponine, quickly grabbing a stool and scooting in between Enjolras and Marius, much to the frontman's impatience. He looked over to see Eponine scouring the set list with a furrowed brow.

"You know, "she said to Marius, almost a little too closely to his ear, "I don't think 'Drops of Jupiter' is right for you guys, it just doesn't fit your style. But I can totally see Combeferre being able to pull off 'All Along the Watchtower" on the guitar. He's got the chops to take that on, though I don't know if Enjolras.."

"That is quite enough Eponine!", interrupted Enjolras sharply. "This the set list for tonight, this is what we're playing. And isn't the club going to open in 5 minutes? Don't you have prep to do?"

Startled by his outburst, Eponine moved too quickly to stand up and fell backwards over the stool on which she had been seated. Adjusting her clothing and hair, she handing the set list back to Marius, and gave Enjolras a searing look before heading back to the bar.

"Jesus, Enj, that was a bit harsh wasn't it?" said Jehan. "She's no groupie, you know how she loves music, and I don't know how many rounds she's been kind enough to give us on the house".

"Jehan", said an exasperated Enjolras, "This band is important. It's important to me, and it's important to a lot of people. Do you realise we are one of the main draws for the rally next week? Do you realise what is happening out there on the street? People are dissatisfied, people are tired of inequality, and they are tired of watching the rich get richer by fair means or foul, while everyone else is getting shafted. There's no room for distraction. We are on the cusp of something here. Don't you feel it?"

By now the rest of the group was looking at him in awe. When he got going he was magnetic. His eyes were blazing and fiery with his cause. He could arouse righteous passion in a block of wood. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, and turned his attention to Marius.

"Marius", he said firmly, "Marius, I need you to be focused. I apologise for what I said to your friend but you _must_ realise, we cannot allow outside influences to dissuade us from our goals. Not now."

"It was a set list Enj" said Marius said quietly, "that's all, and really you _should_ listen to her, if not about band matters, then about the rally. She's been a child of the street since she was 15. She probably knows more about inequality and doing it rough than anyone".

They both looked over to the bar where Eponine was engaged in her bar-prep before opening. Deftly setting up the glasses, cutting lemon slices, and wiping down the bar – she was a vision of efficiency. The club PA pumped 'Welcome to the Jungle' in low tones through the club and Enjolras could see her mouthing the words.

"Give me that set list, Marius" he said. Looking down to the page, his blue eyes focused intently at the chosen songs. "Damn it", he thought.

"Shit" he said out loud.

"What's wrong?" said Feuilly, finally looking up from his beer.

"She's right. Eponine is right" Enjolras said. 'Drops of Jupiter' needs to go. Comb, do you think you can handle 'All Along the Watchtower'?"

Combeferre nodded his head quietly in agreement and started laying out the lead guitar riffs.

He wasn't used to making apologies, but as Enjolras headed towards the bar, he knew there was someone he needed to talk to.


	3. Chapter 3

Eponine had her back turned, filling the large fridges behind the bar. She moved the older stock to the front, and placed the newer beverages at the rear. Her cheeks were still blushed with the shame of being admonished by Enjolras.

_God he was impossible!_ She thought, even as she knew she should not have been so forward on her thoughts about his band. And it was undoubtedly _his_ band, she thought. The others were solid, and enthusiastic, and each in their own way provided balance, but none had the fire of Enjolras. He inspired the whole group, leading them, pushing them to higher learning and a deeper understanding of society's inequalities, using music as the tool. And secretly, she often felt a little inspired herself.

She wondered why Marius had not come to see if she was alright. She had heard his words to Enjolras after the scene, and her heart had fluttered. But she could hear in the background that he was still chatting with the group. Oh well, she thought..there's always hope..there's always tomorrow.

As she bent down to fill the lower fridges she saw a pair of black Doc Marten boots and worn jeans rounding the edge of the bar, coming towards her.

"Uh-oh, I wouldn't come back here right now, mate, if I were you," said Grantaire from the cold room.

"Thank you Grantaire, consider me warned, but I'd really just like a minute with Eponine if you don't mind" Enjolras responded.

"What is it exactly you want Enjolras?" demanded Eponine, standing up, hands on hips. "I get it, ok? I'm not part of the band, I shouldn't have interrupted. I got the message, loud and clear. Now if you'll excuse me, _someone_ has to get this place organised so we can open the doors. Because Grantaire, God bless him, is too much of a human wine cask to do it".

"No offence taken 'Ponine" Grantaire shouted from the back.

"You know I love you G" Eponine grinned. Her grin receded quickly as she realised Enjolras was still there, waiting and looking intently at her face, studying her.

"Fine", she said to him, "Say what you came over here to say", said Eponine, pulling herself up to her full height to take the brunt of the barrage she knew she was about to face. She would show him just how much spine she had.

"Well, um, you see Eponine, what I actually wanted was to apologise to you. You've been very kind to the band, and very interested in what we're trying to do, and well I think I might have overreacted. I do hope you'll take me at my word, and" …he trailed off.

"Yes?" asked Eponine.

"Well, you were right about the song list. Dead right, in fact. 'Watchtower' really _is_ a good choice for the band. And I think Combeferre will do the song justice. Better than just do it justice, in fact".

_Was he blushing?_ thought Eponine. The great Enjolras, the marble frontman. This was a day to remember. She was too amused to stay angry.

She laughed out loud and he looked at her, surprised. Her brown eyes caught the sepia lighting in the club and glowed like embers as she smiled. Enjolras caught himself staring at her, unable to take his eyes away – she looked so alive. Startled, he looked at the floor, anything to stem whatever that feeling was that was trying to find a place to settle in his body.

"Don't worry about it Enjolras, let's call it even, ok?" she said softly. He looked at her confused, unfocused. What was going on behind those blue eyes, she thought?

"I'm sorry, what?' he said.

"I said let's just let it lie, alright? said Eponine, proving it by making Enjolras his favourite drink, water with a slice of lemon, and passing it over the bar.

"Yes, thank you, that would be good. And perhaps you might have other song suggestions? If you'd care to share them with me, or with the group…? " he offered.

A mild surge of panic gripped Eponine. "Wait, hold up a minute" she said.

"Why did you change your mind so suddenly? That's not like you. Did someone say something to you Enjolras? Did _Marius _say something to you about me?"

"He might have mentioned that you had a hard time, that you had been alone in the world for quite a while. I thought your point of view would do the group good. We could all certainly learn a thing or two from you about inequality, and of course you have an astounding knowledge of music"

Again, Eponine felt the heat rise in her face, but this time it was from anger.

"**HOW DARE YOU!** How dare you presume to know me, and know my life! You think I'm a textbook, here to teach your band about social justice? Damn you, you know _nothing_! I know you're from a wealthy family Enjolras, why do you pretend to be like the rest of us? You're not, you're just _pretending_, if only the band name wasn't taken, how accurate it would be, 'The Pretenders', she said in a low, rage-filled voice.

Eponine turned on her heel, ignoring his shocked face and rushed to the front door, wiping the two angry tears that had escaped, and were now running down her face. She lifted the bar and released the lock. In a few minutes, the place would be filled with the band's ever growing audience. She was wrong of course, in what she had said about the band, and she knew it. But she was hurt, and in response she had wanted to hurt Enjolras where he would feel it the most. The band was everything to him , to all of them, and to the people they inspired. They weren't pretenders. They were the real deal.

She turned towards the back of the club, watching as the band made their way backstage to the green room, listening to the whispered excitement of the crowd as they eagerly filled the venue.

In the background, The Black Keys 'Lonely Boy' began to play over the club PA...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: I haven't much feedback but I do hope those that have checked in on the story are enjoying it. I'm starting to find my feet with the characters now, and the plot has a definitive course. Please feel free to review. This is my first attempt, so I'm more than open to constructive criticism ;-)

**Disclaimer**: This is a little late, but of course, I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Three days had passed since Enjolras and Eponine had their run in. Both had ducked for cover, maintaining their distance, not wanting to interfere with the vibe of the band, nor their rehearsal space. When the group appeared at The Musain, she quietly opened the doors, and then retreated, stopping only to chat with Marius when she could catch him alone.

Almost daily there were reports filtering through of the underground Occupy movement. Next week after the concert rally, many protesters were intent on taking their protest to Zuccotti Park. Disenfranchised souls everywhere were getting on board with the message, and spreading it through social media.

Enjolras had been out on the street each day with either Courfeyrac or Combeferre before rehearsals, trying to get a feel for how things were going. Now as he pounded the pavements, walking into the financial districts, he came across a large gathering outside the office of AIG. They were all ages, from teenager's right through to senior citizens. They were holding signs and their faces were furious. Yet even so, the protest was remarkably peaceful. This was a grassroots uprising. People were legitimately frightened of what was happening to their economy, their hometowns, and their families.

Looking into the crowd, he suddenly saw a familiar face. Eponine. She was standing at the back of the crowd, dressed in a distinctly masculine fashion; tailored trousers, a white Hanes tee, her hair up in a newsboy cap, and a large, bulging satchel over her shoulder. Enjolras was taken aback. _What was she doing here_? Despite his recent discovery of her early life, he thought her only interested in the movement because of her infatuation with Marius. But here she was, alone and yelling at the top of her lungs, "We are the 99 percent", "We are the 99 percent"!

Her face was pure fire, and she was pumping her fist hard into the air. _A true believer. She believes in it heart and soul._

He kept an eye on her, even as he made his way through the crowd, handing out leaflets for their rally. After almost an hour, when the crowd started to disperse he decided against his better judgement to follow her. He couldn't help it, he told himself. They were after all, both journeying to The Musain, though he hadn't been _this_ way before.

Eponine was completely unaware she was being tailed as she made her way down the street. She put her headphones on and chose a random selection. The opening riff to AC/DC's 'If You Want Blood (You Got It)' began to play_. How appropriate_, she thought to herself. Lately it seemed everyone wanted a piece of her. She was working long hours at the club, as well as desperately trying to finish a university open learning course, ironically she was currently on the unit titled "The Politics of Inequality". She didn't believe just because she was struggling meant she couldn't educate herself. Truth be told, the _real_ politics of inequality she could do a PhD on, based purely on life experience.

To add insult to injury, her errant father had decided he wanted contact with her. From behind the bars of a prison cell, he suddenly felt paternal. She shuddered at the very thought. _Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, the bruises and the emotional scars._

From a safe distance, Enjolras observed her. She had a rhythmic jaunt to her tiny frame as she walked down the street. _She's listening to music. _If he was a man who in any way could be moved by a woman, he might have found that appealing. As a musician he understood the need to be surrounded by melodies and riffs. Even so, he told himself, this was nothing more than an anthropological study. He simply needed to understand her, and in doing so, he could better know how to motivate the masses he wanted to touch with his message of revolution. Even doing this was dangerous, since she was sure to be unamused by him following her.

He watched as she ducked down several alleys in a row, giving a quick wave as she exited each one and continued on her way. When she turned the corner, he took the chance to peer into one of the alleyways he had seen her venture in and out of.

There were scores of homeless and destitute there.

Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled for some loose change. This is wrong he thought to himself. No-one should have to live like this. Not in this country, nor anywhere else. As he gave some money to an older woman, he noticed a neatly cut sandwich on her lap. He looked around. They all had them_. Is this what she'd been doing? Feeding the poor?_

She couldn't be earning much at the club, and yet she was out here quietly helping where it was needed the most. Doing what she could on her meagre funds.

He realised that for the second time in a week he'd underestimated her. He'd underestimated her a great deal, in fact.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Thanks so much to everyone that has provided feedback and reviews. I've received a lot of requests for more Enjolras/Eponine interaction. Trust me, we'll get there. These two are preoccupied at the moment but they're making small moves. My favourite stories about them on this site are the ones where the relationship seems natural, more of a slow burn. In the meantime, to make the story a bit more multi-layered, we'll be seeinga bit more of some of our favourite (and not so favourite) classic characters from the novel.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

As she made her way to The Musain, Eponine had the vague sensation of more than one pair of eyes on her, but the few times she had turned to monitor the street behind her, she had seen nothing out of the ordinary. _This __**is**__ New York_, she mused_. There's streetwise and then there's paranoid 'Ponine._

Eponine pulled the keys to the club out from the side pocket of her satchel. Walking the alleys as she had today always made her feel like her own plight wasn't so bad. That there were others, not only worse off but who needed her help. It was such a change from being on the other side of that equation. Sometimes she wondered if all she had gone through had led her to this. That her hard luck hadn't been in vain, and maybe she was meant to shine a light for others. _Oh bother, it's just a sandwich and a kind word. _But deep down she knew it was more.

She pushed her hand against the large metal door of the club and turned the key. It was jammed. _Damn it!_ Suddenly another hand appeared on the door beside her, cornering her against the steps. She could smell him before she turned. Montparnasse.

"Need some help 'Ponine?" he said taking a step closer.

"How did you find me? What are you doing here? Get away from me", stuttered Eponine, realising that he'd cut off any chance she had to escape from him.

"Oh 'Ponine, 'Ponine _so_ many questions. Perhaps I can answer them later in private, in exchange for a few ….favours?" Again he moved closer, so near she swore she felt his breath on her hair.

"I'm not afraid of you 'Parnasse, not any more. You and my father don't have a say in my life. I thought I made that clear at his sentencing".

"Well, isn't it funny you should mention your darling Dad, my sweet, because I'm here at his behest. Apparently, you're not responding to his letters? To his calls? It would be a shame for him to think you've abandoned him in his hour of need. Both he and I would be most offended. _Most offended_." He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, twisting it.

"Take your hands off the young lady" a voice from behind Montparnasse said. Looking past her captor's arm, Eponine saw Grantaire's unruly mop of ebony curls.

"And who the hell are you? Her lover?" he sniffed the air. "Eponine, I didn't know your tastes ran to gentlemen quite so …..saturated".

"Here's to alcohol", said Grantaire, moving closer, "the rose coloured glasses of life. Fitzgerald said that. Are you acquainted with his works? No? Anyhow, regardless of how sauced I am _Chum_, I'm still man enough to take you on". He pushed up the cuffs of his shirt to his elbows and went to pull Eponine out from under her assailant's grip.

His opponent occupied for that split second, Montparnasse saw his opportunity to strike. He pulled back his fist, scarred from years of street fighting and punched Grantaire square in the jaw. Caught off guard, he went reeling onto the pavement.

"G!" Eponine cried. She ran over to him, and pulled him by the scruff of his shirt to his feet. He was bleeding profusely from a cut on his lip. "Are you alright? She asked. Touching his mouth gingerly, Grantaire nodded. Furiously, she spun around to face Montparnasse, "You bastard! He has nothing to do with whatever _this_ is" she said gesturing between the two of them.

From underneath his jacket, Montparnasse produced a blade. "You're wrong 'Ponine. Anything to do with you is my business, including your friends. Now, you're going to come with me or I'm going to cut a pretty pattern into that delicious face of yours".

"She's not going anywhere she doesn't want to" said an angry voice. Montparnasse spun around to find a small group of men had arrived on the scene. The one who had spoken stepped forward. With his bedhead dirty blonde hair, jeans and leather jacket, he looked more like an advertisement for Rolling Stone magazine than a real threat. But something in his eyes made Montparnasse pause. They were dark blue but alight with anger. Montparnasse hesitated.

Enjolras. Combeferre. Courfeyrac, Feuilly, and Jehan. She catalogued them. They were all there, standing up for her. And by the look in their eyes, they were ready to leap to her defence at a moment's notice.

"Eponine, Grantaire..if you will, please step over here with us" instructed Enjolras. Eponine grabbed Grantaire's hand and they made their way to the group. She could feel the hateful glare of Montparnasse as she passed in front of him.

"Now friend, listen closely, because I'll say this only once", snarled Enjolras, "don't come back here. Don't come back here _ever _again. If I," he gestured towards the group, "if _we_ ever see you here, or find out that you've been threatening Eponine, well, we'd consider that a personal slight against all of us. Are we clear?"

Montparnasse glared at him.

"Are we CLEAR?" demanded Enjolras again.

"Crystal". Montparnasse gathered himself together, mentally committing each face to memory. He wasn't going to let this slide. There would be another time, however. He slunk down from the steps of the club, shoulders bent in defeat, and started to make his way down the street, away from the group still gathered on the sidewalk. He turned a corner and was gone.

"Christ!", said Courfeyrac.

"Who _was_ that Eponine?" asked Feuilly.

"One of the most disdainful creatures _I've_ seen", added Combeferre.

"Ok, alright lads, I think Eponine has had enough for one day", said Enjolras.

"Let's go inside the club", she said, her trembling fingers unable to get the key in the lock. She felt a warm hand steady hers. Enjolras held onto her as they twisted the lock together, and the door opened. There was no doubt she was still raging at him, but it could wait. They had saved her from what was surely going to be a sound beating. And for that she was truly grateful.

As they made their way into the darkened club, he turned to her. "Are you alright?" he said, as the others made their way to their usual spot. He was looking her directly in the face, his blue eyes searching hers, and there was something else hovering there. _Not the usual impatience_. No, this was something different. She couldn't place it, but it made her feel empowered, strong.

"Yes, thanks I'm much better now. I really owe you guys". And on impulse she reached up on tiptoe to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. She had meant it only in a friendly way, but as she lowered herself back down to her normal height she could feel a certain amount of not unpleasant tension between them, that hadn't been there before.

"Eponine, there was something I wanted to talk to you about…" he said, blushing furiously and taking a step back. _Get your head together Enjolras_.

"We don't need to talk about our differences right now, Enjolras".

"No, there's something else…"

"Oy!" he was interrupted by Grantaire shouting across the bar, "I don't know about you lot, but after that scene, I need a drink - this round's on me".

Enjolras sighed in defeat. For once they all agreed Grantaire was right and happily sauntered up to the bar for a shot. Even Enjolras relented. It had been quite a day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

After a couple of rounds of shots, the group were definitely starting to loosen up. Eponine was working so her first shot had also been her last, but the others were robustly getting into the spirit. For now, they let Eponine be, and had not pushed her to reveal more about the encounter with Montparnasse on the street.

Enjolras had been electrified by her kiss, innocent as it was, and disturbed by his own reaction to it. There were several things he was eager to discuss with her, but he was determined to refocus on the group for now. They only had a few more days of rehearsal for the rally, the gig tonight as house band at The Musain, and the rally itself.

They were sitting in a semi-circle surrounded by the dark timbered chairs and tables. Combeferre was strumming his guitar, Feuilly, usually the percussionist, was filling in for the absent Marius and was keeping time by padding out a beat on the table, and Enjolras was singing. His voice was rich and strong, tempered only by the shots he'd had, which actually added to its appeal, giving a slightly hardened edge to it as he sang the words of Tracy Chapman;

_Poor people gonna rise up  
And get their share  
Poor people gonna rise up  
And take what's theirs_

_Don't you know_  
_You better run, run, run..._  
_Oh I said you better Run, run, run..._  
_Finally the tables are starting to turn_  
_Talkin' bout a revolution_

_He's hypnotic_, thought Eponine. One of the pin lights in the ceiling was shining down on him, and for a moment he looked vaguely angelic, the light creating a fuzzy halo around his golden hair. He was a dark angel though, she thought to herself. She had seen the wild look in his eyes on the street and there was no doubt Montparnasse would have found in him a worthy opponent. An _avenging angel_, she decided.

The door of the club banged noisily open. _Marius!_ The sight of him made her wonder where he had been lately. Absent or late to the rehearsals, he seemed distracted and, she noted wryly, even less willing to spend time with her than normal.

He was over half an hour late and full of apologies. The flustered look on his face was enough to arouse some curiosity in Grantaire. "Spill it, Pontmercy, what's up your nose?"

Out of breath, Marius plonked down on the bar stool in front of Grantaire, "I saw the most amazing girl today. She was incredible. She was….she was…. _incandescent!_ He declared.

"Who is she? Who is this seductress….this madam who elicits such poetry? Or bullshit, depending on your viewpoint, no I joke, it really _is_ poetry Marius, don't look so offended."

"Well that's just it Grantaire, I don't _know_. This isn't the first time I've seen her, but she's like a ghost. One minute here, and the next – gone".

"Fuck me, look at him", said Courfeyrac, gesturing to Marius. "He's been hit by the bolt".

"And what pray tell, is the bolt?" questioned Enjolras.

"You know, that sudden rush of passion, that amazing connection between you and someone else? Have you never see 'The Godfather', Enj? What do the Italians call it? è stato un colpo di fulmine" or literally "it has been a stroke of lightning' explained Jehan.

"I'm really glad your Foreign Language course at college has finally paid off Jehan" exasperated Enjolras.

Grantaire guffawed at the bar. "Enj wouldn't know love if it came and bit him on the arse" he laughed bitterly.

"Some things are more important than love, Grantaire", came the response. "Marius the rally is only a few days away. I need you here, I need you focused".

"I know" said Marius, "I just need to find her. I am committed to the band Enj. You know I am".

Eponine had been listening; wide eyes open to the conversation. _No!_ She thought, the beginning of tears stinging her eyes. It was her Marius was supposed to talk this way about. Even though she knew, somewhere deep down in places she didn't like to dwell, that he was not hers to lose, the reality hit her hard. _He's in love. And not with me._ He does not _see_ me, he has _never_ really seen me.

She did not want any of them to see her cry. She composed herself and walked quickly to the ladies bathrooms located at the back of the venue. Once there, she locked herself in a cubicle and let the tears flow freely. She sobbed deeply, all the fantasies she'd had came tumbling about her face in a waterfall of despair. Reality could be so casually cruel, she decided.

Meanwhile her departure from the bar hadn't gone entirely unnoticed.

"We need to talk about 'Ponine" said Combeferre. "Despite Enjolras' warning, I think that guy is trouble. I think he'll be back".

"What guy?" said Marius.

"Pontmercy, if you're going to be late you're going to miss all of the excitement" admonished Feuilly.

"Have any of you seen him before?" asked Jehan.

They all shook their heads.

"He seemed to know 'Ponine well enough", said Grantaire.

"She needs an escort", declared Enjolras. Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow. "Not that kind, you douche'. To and from the club. We can take it in turns, just until we're sure this guy is out of the picture".

"She's too independent. She won't take kindly to that suggestion, I can tell you right now" said Grantaire.

"To what suggestion?", said a voice behind them.

"Umm..well 'Ponine, we feel like this Montparnasse fellow might not let up, and we'd like to help you out, maybe take you to and from work for a bit, if you don't mind? _Do_ you mind?" Jehan asked carefully.

She was so touched she thought she might hug them all. Any other time she'd be furious. She knew the streets, she _knew_ how to take care of herself. She didn't need anyone. But maybe, given what happened earlier, just maybe she did.

"Fine" she said wearily. She felt too beaten to argue. She was all alone in the world, with no-one to care for her, and here were these men, her friends (?) offering her some protection, if only temporarily.

"Fine", she repeated, looking over them with a wry smile. "Which one of you scruffians is going to escort me home after the show?"

"I am", said Enjolras, before he realised the words had escaped his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Just a small note this time. I've seen lots of discussions regarding Enjolras and his sexuality and the complicated relationship with Grantaire. Truth be told, I love that side of the story. My take on Enjolras is that he's _not_ asexual, he's just so completely focused on his goals that he doesn't see outside of that vision. I believe that an extraordinary individual , of _either_ sex, could turn his head. But it has to be somebody that moves him powerfully, and is capable of competing with his love of country and his passion for liberty.

I hope you're enjoying the story. I haven't explored much of the band on stage, and I thought we might delve into that a little bit, and the character of their enigmatic frontman, before moving on to some more juicy stuff.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

The band were in incredible form that night, whether spurred on by the day's events or fired up by their own beliefs in revolution, or both, Eponine could not be sure. One thing she _was_ certain of, the connection between the band and the audience had never been tighter. Enjolras had all but whipped them into a frenzy. By the second set, he was covered in sweat, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone, revealing a hint of masculine hair, the sweat making his leather pants grip his body even tighter.

There was no doubt the effect he was having on the crowd. Both women _and_ men were transfixed by him. Off stage, he was reserved and sure of himself, yet almost asexual. But when he was singing the angry revolutionary songs, a remarkable transformation took place. He became another animal altogether. Fire and spit and rage…and sex.

_Sex and Enjolras? _The two words were ones Eponine would not normally use together when thinking of him.

Watching from behind the bar, between serving the patrons their drinks, she could feel the electric atmosphere burning from the stage. The crowd was surging forward, desperately trying to push closer to the stage to get his attention.

She suddenly felt like a voyeur, looking into someone's private life. She blinked unbelievingly when he looked over to her as the band started into the first chords of 'All Along the Watchtower'. _Her_ choice for the setlist.

"This one's for Eponine, the most righteous bartender in the Village", he yelled, pointing at her across the heads of the crowd. The spotlight swung her way. The crowd roared.

"Yeah! "shouted Grantaire, raising his fist and looking over to her, as the band launched into the song.

"_No reason to get excited,"__  
The thief, he kindly spoke__  
"There are many here among us__  
Who feel that life is but a joke__  
But you and I, we've been through that__  
And this is not our fate__  
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late"_

She felt elated, high. It was so rare for her to be highlighted this way. Most other times, it was because she was in trouble, or singled out for a beating by either her father or Montparnasse for some imagined trespass.

She took a minute to take in the rest of the band. _Look at them. Young gods, in the prime of their lives._ She felt a swell of affection for them. She was undeserving of their help; she was at heart, a street rat. That was what her father had always told her. "You're nothing 'Ponine, just a mistake your mother and I made once" he'd spat at her. She shook off the memory. _No, not tonight. Nothing can spoil this feeling._

The bar got pretty busy after that, and before Eponine knew it, Les Amis were performing their encore', the new song penned by Enjolras and Comberferre, 'Do You Hear the People Sing'. It was almost militaristic, a modern version of Queen's 'We Will Rock You'.

"_It is the music of the people WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN!'._

_They're going to raise the damn roof off_. Security was going to have their hands full at the stage door, she predicted. The song whipped up the stir of emotions again and sent the crowd and the band soaring_._

When the last note sounded, Combeferre raised his guitar triumphantly in the air and Enjolras pumped his fist. "Viva la Revolution!" he cried, as the stage blackened.

Slowly the house lights came on, and the revellers began filing out onto the street, buoyed by the performance and talking of the coming rally. Inside, Grantaire and Eponine started stacking the chairs on the tables and mopping the floor.

About an hour later, when the cleaning was done, and the band had sufficiently calmed down and showered after the gig,, they made an appearance one by one from the green room. Feuilly and Courfeyrac were chatting excitedly; Marius and Jehan were talking about love songs, and Enjolras and 'Ferre both had triumphant looks on their faces.

"We're really going to do it, we're going to get a _huge_ crowd next week. Did you hear them? Did you feel that rush? If the people are half as enthusiastic next week, the television crews will come – our message will get to the government, I'm sure of it, "enthused Enjolras.

"Did you see those women at the front of the stage, Enj? Did you see them? I swear that was Penthouse's Miss May, said Courfeyrac.

"Trust you to completely miss the point, Courf", chuckled Enjolras ruefully.

"_I'm_ not made of stone, man". They all laughed at that. All except Enjolras.

Changing the subject, he looked around the club. "Where's Eponine? I'd like to get going", he shouted to Grantaire, who was picking up the last of the glasses from the tables. "She's in the back, getting her things together", said the barman.

After another fifteen minutes, Eponine finally made an appearance. She'd changed out of her 'club clothes" as she called them, and into flared jeans, tee, and released her rich, auburn hair from the tight bun she'd worn earlier. She gave it a tussle as she walked towards them.

"Thanks for closing up G", said Eponine, as the group made their way out onto the street.

"Enjolras, will you be quite alright, being alone with a young lady?", snickered Feuilly.

"It's _not_ a young lady, it's Ponine". He saw her put her head down. "I mean, well you know what I mean, Feuilly", he flustered. "I meant no offence, Eponine".

"None taken", she said, still basking in the mood of the night.

The group were going in the opposite direction to them, so they waved their goodbyes.

"Shall we go?" Enjolras asked Eponine, breathing in the cool night air.

"Yes, lets" she said, and they started making their way down the street.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **After building somewhat of "bigger picture" of this group, I'm going to start getting down now to nitty gritty with Eponine and Enjolras. They both have a lot of emotional issues to tackle. Can they let those go long enough to let someone else into their worlds? We'll see. After this chapter I'm going to see how reviews play out before moving forward with the story. I am still writing it though, for my own benefit we'll see what the feedback from all of you is like, before I publish the rest of the chapters.

When I'm writing each chapter, I often listen to the music mentioned. For this one, I definitely had 'Gimme Shelter' by The Rolling Stones playing in the relevant moment. Give it a go - it might add that little extra to you reading enjoyment :-)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

It was a brisk evening as they made their way down the street. The night was clear and calm, save for the hum of the traffic in the nearby streets. They walked in awkward silence. Eponine realised this was the first time they'd ever been alone together. She snuck a sidelong glance at him, his pale skin reflecting the soft glow of moonlight. She was struck by his strong jawline. He was truly the most beautiful man she had ever seen. _Even more handsome than Marius_, she thought, and then washed his name away into the night._ Still too raw._

Enjolras was lost in his own thoughts. The sensation he'd had of reaching the crowd tonight was slowly ebbing away. He was acutely aware of the silence between them. _I'm just not good with people. Not up close and personal_. Why had he agreed to this?

He knew part of the problem was the unresolved argument between them several days ago at the club, but he was uncertain of how to approach the issue, given her fiery reaction to him last time. And so it sat there, like an invisible wall between them.

"Spit it out Enj" said Eponine suddenly.

"I…., what?"

"Whatever is on your mind" she said, "I can always tell. You purse your lips together like this" she made her mouth into the shape of a pout.

"I didn't realise I was quite that easy to read", he said dismayed.

"You're not. Not to others, anyway…but uh..living _my_ life I've had to become quite good at picking up signs you know, kind of a survival technique", she explained.

"I see. As it happens, I've been meaning to talk to you all week but there's been so much going on that I haven't had the chance. I'm sorry, deeply sorry, for making assumptions about your life. You're right Eponine, I _don't_ know you, not really. But I'd like to. If you'd let me. Maybe you can teach me something about all this", he gestured around to the street, "something more than songs, and newspaper articles, and statistics can show me".

She stopped walking and faced him. And exhaled, letting the tension go.

"Ok, I'll do it. But answer me this first; Why _me_? I'm nothing special Enjolras, my story isn't roses and pretty things you know, I'm not sure I'm deserving of such close inspection".

"You _deserve_ the same amount of attention as anyone else", he said, unconsciously moving a little closer to her. "You're as worthy of respect and having your story known as the rest of us. You are not invisible 'Ponine. Not to me".

She took a moment to let his words sink in, saying nothing. In unison, they both turned and continued walking, this time the silence was more relaxed.

When they had walked a further two blocks, she paused.

"Well, this is me", she said, pointing to the building next to them.

"_This_ is where you live?" The apartment block was red-bricked and old, but neat and well taken care of, at least on the outside. On several of the floors, tenants had put planter boxes on their balconies from which grew multi-coloured flowers. It was welcoming and bright, even in the darkness of the night.

She laughed, "You were expecting a _dump, _right? I _have_ lived in some pretty terrible places but the short story is I helped out a guy once, and when he went overseas, he told me I could use the place rent-free for a while. Otherwise, yeah, I'd probably be someplace not quite so charming".

"Shall we get started then?" asked Enjolras.

"What, _now_? Aren't you wrecked from the gig? And it must be close to midnight".

"No time like the present, I always say".

"Well…alright, I _am_ a bit of a night owl" she said fumbling in her satchel for her keys. "I haven't really cleaned up the place, so it might be a bit of a mess. I've been a bit busy".

_Yes, you have,_ he thought, remembering her trip to the alleys. "I'm sure it's fine".

When they got to the second landing she opened the door to the right of the stairs. She flicked on the light switch. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this surely wasn't it.

The lounge room was a living, breathing monument to music and literature. There were posters all over the walls. The Rolling Stones at Altamont, The Allman Brothers live at The Fillmore, Guns'n Roses, Soundgarden, The White Stripes, Jimi Hendrix. And on an old bookshelf, lurching in the corner, was a cornucopia of books, most dog eared from age, but the titles were more indicative of a student than a bartender; _'Love in the Time of Cholera_, _'The Irresistable Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical'_, _'Long Walk to Freedom: Nelson Mandela'_, '_The Working Poor: Invisible in America'._

"I have this book. And this one too. Are these all _yours_, Eponine? She nodded. "You have a record player? A real record player? Do you have any records?" He was excited now; she suppressed an urge to smile. She liked the idea of surprising him.

"Right behind you Enj" – when he turned, he gasped. An entire wall was taken up with vinyl. "Do you want a drink? Tea?" she asked.

"Tea would be good. Can we listen to this one?"

"Listen to whatever you like". While she boiled the kettle he removed the vinyl record gently from its cover and put the album on the turntable. Soon the beginning strains of The Stones 'Gimme Shelter' began to fill the room.

_Oh, a storm is threat'ning  
My very life today  
If I don't get some shelter  
Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away  
War, children, it's just a shot away  
It's just a shot away  
__War, children, it's just a shot away  
__It's just a shot away__  
_

When she'd made the tea she brought the two steaming mugs over to where he was now sitting in the middle of the floor beside the records.

"Where did you get all these?" asked Enjolras, looking around. It really was _quite_ a collection.

"Flea markets, and op shops mostly, and you'd be amazed at the stuff people throw out".

"It's amazing. Really, I'd kill for some of these records".

"Spoken like a true revolutionary", she smirked, "So, umm..where did you want to start?"

'Right, well perhaps you could tell me something of your early life?"

Eponine shifted uncomfortably on the floor. No-one had ever really wanted to know before. "How much detail do you want?"

"Only as much as you're willing to give", he replied softly. He leaned towards the stereo. "Do you want the music off?"

"No, leave it – it relaxes me" she said, taking off her shoes, crossing her legs and leaning her back up against the sofa.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and then, looking at him she began;

She told him about her early life as the spoiled daughter of an innkeeper. About how her parents had no capacity for finances, and eventually went bankrupt but in doing so found they had a knack for crime, and the seedier side of life. They began small, she told him, gathering around them a gang of thieves, and they graduated quickly to petty theft, before moving on to extortion, violent crimes and even to prostitution. Here, she paused.

Impulsively, he reached out and gave her hand a squeeze, and felt her delicate hand squeeze back.

"And how did you come to be separated from them?" he asked gently.

"I ran away. They were trying to..trying to.." She swallowed hard, fighting back tears, "they were trying to sell me. Sell me to men. I was fifteen years old. My father tried to shake down an undercover cop, and they busted him. I testified against him, then I ran, as fast and as far as I could. And I've been on my own ever since, for almost five years now, in an out of shelters, until about a year ago".

She gasped, sobbing, "I thought they'd forgotten about me, you know? But that man today, Montparnasse? He's part of my father's gang. They're never going to let me go, are they?" Her face was stricken with fear, the confident girl in the club, the one helping others in the street - was gone. "My father was right, I'm nothing but a street rat and I have his dirty blood in my veins".

She was shaking now, uncontrollably. _In front of **him**, of all people. The marble statue._

Enjolras wasn't used to such an outpouring of emotion, and he certainly didn't know how to comfort a woman, but for once in his life he let his instincts and heart take over.

He pulled the frail girl into his lap, and let her cry freely into his neck. For ten minutes or more she sobbed, until her breathing gradually returned to normal. He could feel the warmth of it against his neck. He realised he didn't want her to move. He was genuinely disappointed when she lifted her head.

"Do you think badly of me? I'm a terrible person, Enj. It's in my DNA. That's why Marius didn't love me".

"Pontmercy is a fool. A damn fool. 'Ponine listen to me, _listen _to me" he implored and reached out with both hands and held her face to his. "I _saw_ you. I know you've been feeding the homeless in those alleys. Do you understand the magnitude of that tiny act. You're giving them hope, maybe you're even keeping some of them alive. Do you know how revolutionary of an act that is, in times like this? It's extraordinary. _You're_ extraordinary. You're….beautiful".

Her liquid brown eyes were wide, looking at him. _Staring into my soul_, he thought.

In that moment, Enjolras' whole body reacted, as if there were a hollow emptiness inside him, that he desperately needed to fill. He was more conscious of Eponine than he had ever been of anything or anyone else in his life. The soft glimmer of amber in her eyes, the smooth pale olive of her skin, the exposed skin of her shoulders and throat—and more than anything else, of her mouth, the heart shape of it, the slight dip in her lower lip.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned toward her and brushed his lips across hers, and she reached for him as if she might never let go. His hands were in her hair and he was pulling her against his chest. She put her hands lightly around his neck. Through the thin material of his t-shirt, she could feel the muscles of his shoulders.

He pushed firmly against her lips, and she gasped when she felt his tongue touch hers. She responded in kind and he emitted a low moan as she simultaneously ran her fingers through his hair.

They were both so taken in the moment, they hadn't heard the door open and were only parted by the sudden sound of the needle scratching on the record player.

Out of breath, they both looked up, brought back with a thud to their surroundings.

"Get your hands off her, bourgeois boy" said a voice.

Slowly, and regrettably, Enjolras removed his hands from Eponine. Standing in front of them was a young boy, no more than twelve years old. His almost shoulder length blonde hair had seen better days, and his clothes had the appearance of being slept in. His eyes, however were keen, and alert, and looked to belong to someone several years older.

"Enjolras", said Eponine, standing up, "I'd like you to meet my brother, Gavroche'.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thank you to all the new followers, and those that have favourited this story. A special thanks to the remarkable Caderyn, author of One Inch, one of my favourite E/E fics for giving me some advice and urging me to stick to my own individual style of writing. So, we finally met the irrepressible Gavroche'. We're going to take off on a little tangent this chapter, but never fear, the next Chapter is half written. I'm not going to ask for reviews or feedback before posting because I think that actually puts people off doing it..lol. But this story needs to make its way out of my brain, so on we'll go.

I listened to Mary J. Blige singing "Overjoyed" (the original is by Stevie Wonder) while writing this. It's quite beautiful but bittersweet as well. I think it's perfect for Eponine to sing to Gav. The melody is sweet but the words are very sad .

_Over hearts, I have painfully turned every stone_  
_Just to find, I had found what I've searched to discover_  
_I've come much too far for me now to find_  
_The love that I've sought can never be mine_

_And though you don't believe that they do_  
_They do come true, for did my dreams_  
_Come true when I looked at you_  
_And maybe too, if you would believe_  
_You too might be overjoyed, over loved, over me_

I recommend listening to it, you can find it on YouTube.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Enjolras, still taken aback by what had just transpired with Eponine, quickly got up from where he had been sitting, and adjusted his clothing.

"Very pleased to meet you Gavroche'. I had no idea Eponine had any brothers or sisters."

"Who _are_ you? I've seen you somewhere, what are you doing with my 'Ponine", said the boy possessively, striding right up to where Enjolras stood, placing his hands across his hips.

_Oh yes, they're family. That stance was very familiar._

"I'm Enjolras, I'm in a band called Les Amis, and –"

"The band Courfeyrac is in?", he demanded.

"Um..yes, how did you know that?

"He buys me a slice of pizza every now and then, from that place in Central Park. He gave me a leaflet the other day".

"For the rally? You must be kidding?"

"Why's that?"

"You're just a kid", said Enjolras.

"Little people have rights too you know, and I like Courf – he treats me like a _real _person", said Gavroche' adamantly.

"Well yes, you are, that's a very good point. And do you know what the rally is about, Gavroche'?

"Sure I do. It's about the poor, like me and Eponine, and the rest of the country, getting screwed by rich people and banks and stuff."

"Well that's putting it crudely, but yes, that's right. But I don't think the rally is a good place for you, Gavroche. It's going to be rowdy, maybe even dangerous".

"I'll do just fine thanks. But can I come with you guys? I'm really smart, I can help you, and -"

"Alright Gav', that's enough for now. Why don't you go get cleaned up and we might think about calling Children's Services to let them know you're safe? Then I'll call Michael and Sandra, alright? They must be worried sick. And you have to go to bed, it's late" said Eponine, grabbing her phone off the counter.

"I'll be one minute", she said to Enjolras as she walked into the adjoining room to make the calls.

_My God, what just happened? _Enjolras felt like he'd been tossed into a hurricane. Had he really just kissed Eponine? A million thoughts and feelings were running through this mind and body. Not all of them unpleasant. The touch of her lips, the feel of her arms around him. His head was a babble of confusion. This was not him. He felt confused and unfocused.

_He had to go_.

Just as he had that thought, Eponine returned from the other room. She saw that he was picking up his jacket.

"You're leaving"? We're not finished are we – I mean the research? My past?"

That familiar awkwardness had returned between them.

"No, no it's just that it's late Eponine, and you have your brother to take care of. Perhaps we can finish it another day? Tomorrow night perhaps?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about 'Gav. He's the only thing I have left in the world you know. He's in foster care, but he sneaks away every now and then, to see me", explained Eponine, taking in his rattled appearance. _He can't get out of here fast enough_, she thought.

"It's fine Eponine, really."

"If you were a woman and you told me everything was fine, I'd be worried", she said, following him as he made his way to the door. "You're sorry about it, aren't you? Kissing me?"

"No, of course not. It's just..complicated".

"Why?"

"Well for a start you're hardly over Marius, and as for me, well I've never…never mind. I have to go". he said as he squeezed her hand, reassuringly. "I'll see you at the club?"

"Sure".

She watched for a moment at his disappearing form in the stairwell.

She closed the door and leaned up against it, deep in thought. Why do I always have to mess things up? She felt he'd wanted to share something with her, and then changed his mind. I did it again, she thought. But his kiss. That kiss **had** been real. She'd felt it. He'd kissed her with intent, and the surprising passion behind it had left her breathless.

"Ponine?" said a tired voice behind her.

"Gav'? I thought you were in bed?"

"Can you sing to me? Like you used to?" he asked.

"Are you having nightmares again?"

He nodded. She took him back to her room, and watched as he jumped under the covers.

She looked down at him, this tough little man. She often forgot he was just a child; sometimes he was more streetwise than she was. At least this foster home seemed better than the last.

"Was it about the Thenardiers?"

"Why don't you ever call them Mom and Dad?", he asked, snuggling deeper into the bed.

"Because they don't deserve it Gavroche', she said softly, patting his damp hair. " Sometimes I think we can't escape them, you know. That we're part of them, forever. But then I hear other voices telling me I'm better than that, and I start to think maybe I am, and you _definitely_ are. And that's what the rally is about. A fair opportunity for everyone. Now, go to bed".

She heard Enjolras' words. _Revolutionary. Extraordinary. Beautiful_. And he had been talking about _her._

She started softly singing the first words to 'Overjoyed' and soon Gavroche's eyes were heavy with sleep.

"You know what I think, 'Ponine?, he murmured. " I think you're getting soft in your old age", he smirked.

"Go to sleep, you" she said and ruffled his hair.

She turned once more to look at him, then flicked off the light before pulling up a spot on the lounge, settling in to a troubled sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I hope you liked the diversion with Gavroche. Never fear – he'll be back. Settle in folks, we're getting closer now to the day of the rally. Meanwhile another war is raging, inside Enjolras. Head battling with heart – the eternal dilemma.

**Disclaimer**: Idon't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

Songs I listened to while writing this:  
"What the World Needs Now (Is Love Sweet Love) by Jackie Delshannon - for Jehan  
"Love is Blindness" by Jack White– for Marius  
"Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes - for the Les Amis group meeting  
"I Found a Way" by First Aid Kit for Eponine's recollection

* * *

**Chapter 10**

After the late night, Eponine found it hard to lift her heavy head from the pillow.

But from the intercom she could hear insistent buzzing. She gathered around her the blanket that had been covering her, and made her way over to the door.

"Yes?" she said speaking into it huskily.

"Ms Jondrette? We're here to pick up Gavroche".

"Oh right, we'll be down in about ten minutes, she said, releasing the button. Looking at the clock, she realised it was later than she'd thought. _Eleven o'clock!_

"Gav!" she called out, "Get your things together, Child Services are here. I'm going to jump in a quick shower, ok?"

She could hear a grumbled reply from the bedroom which she took to mean he'd heard her.

Going into the bathroom, she undressed, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was too thin, even she could see it. She'd been eating much better this past six months than she had in her entire life, yet there was definitely room for improvement_. It's not like anyone's going to see me naked, _she thought. She quickly tried to erase the thought. Her only experience of intimacy had been what amounted to sexual assault by Montparnasse when she was fourteen. She had not wanted his advances, yet he insisted she had been teasing him. She remembered his probing hands, invading her, his body pushing hers up against a wall. Her only relief, ironically, had been when Thenardier had interrupted the scene, reminding his partner in crime they were late for a job. He had not even blinked at Eponine though he clearly saw her distress. He had simply ushered Montparnasse downstairs to their waiting car.

_Fifteen years of bad memories._

Shaking off the memory, she showered quickly and dressed for the weather in her black jeans, Aerosmith tee-shirt, ankle boots and maroon jacket. She really _was_ the master of the op-shop find. The outfit barely cost her forty dollars.

She put on some natural makeup, a bit of gloss, tousled her still-wet hair, and hurried down the hall.

"Gav!" she called, "Let's hustle!"

"I'm right here 'Ponine", he said. He was standing at the door, waiting for her, eating one of her muesli bars.

"Oh", she laughed. She opened the front door and they went down to the landing. Waiting for them were two officers from Child Services.

"Ms Jondrette, you really need to discourage your brother from doing this." said one of the officers. "His foster parents were very worried".

"Have you ever tried to tell Gavroche _anything_?" she sighed. She hugged Gavroche and helped him into the car. "Be good Gav', and I'll arrange a sleepover next week maybe, ok?"

"Alright 'Ponine. But I _am_ coming to that rally. Me and my mates will be there", he said as the other officer closed the door.

She exhaled as the car drove away. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure sitting on her stoop. _Jehan._

"Good Morning Eponine", he said brightly, standing and walking over to her. He was carrying a little bouquet of flowers, which he held out to her.

"For me? Why?"

"Every girl deserves flowers, even if they _are_ picked from her neighbours' garden", he said, gesturing to the bald patch in the planter next to him.

"Oh dear, you'll get me in trouble with Mrs Parkinson", she giggled. He suddenly looked embarrassed. She took a minute to take in his outfit. He really had no dress sense to speak of. A loose t-shirt, skinny jeans, and a paisley vest, complete with a gold silk scarf, and bright blue Nikes. It hurt her to look at him. _Bless him_, she thought, he really_ had_ tried.

She swung her bag over her shoulder as they started on their way to the club.

"Jehan, how did you know where I lived?" she asked him.

"The power of technology" he said gesturing to his phone."Enj texted me the address last night. How did you go, last night, by the way".

"Uh..what do you mean?" said Eponine, wondering exactly what Enjolras had told him.

"Well Enjolras isn't exactly comfortable with interpersonal relationships. Don't get me wrong, he's an inspirational leader but that lends itself to a certain..distance. I was just wondering if you found much to talk about".

"But surely he must have some talent at it? The groupies, the attention, and he's trying to gather press for the rally?" said Eponine.

"That's the speeches and the marketing, and he's incredible at that, perhaps one of the finest orators I've had the pleasure to see. But Enj has never been interested in woman _nor_ men for that matter, not for as long as I've known him. The attention and the media are simply means to an end. He's very serious about what's happening Eponine. The rally is going to attract a lot of attention and we're going to be right at the centre of it when it happens."

Something about what he said gave Eponine a sudden chill.

"Could you all go to jail, could you be hurt?"

"We're planning on this being a peaceful protest but you can never really tell. And anyway, you can jail a Revolutionary, but you can't jail the Revolution. Huey Newton said that", he said.

By the time they'd gotten to the club both of them had had a cup of coffee and a breakfast burrito on the way, though it was almost lunchtime. Today was a longer rehearsal, given that they only had two days left before the rally.

They arrived to find the club already opened. Grantaire was setting up for the day, and Courfeyrac was playing with his phone. Feuilly and Combeferre were at the back of the stage, setting up the setlist on the floor. Enjolras was nowhere to be seen. From the direction of the sound booth Eponine heard a high pitched laugh and hear a low male voice say "Shhh", then laugh.

"Marius?" called out Eponine.

He emerged holding the hand of a slim, blonde girl with long hair trailing almost to her waist.

"Oh hey, 'Ponine, this is Cosette, the girl whose been mysteriously haunting me for days", he blushed.

"Seriously, the man has _no_ idea, he's a walking lobotomy sometimes", muttered Grantaire to himself at the bar, pouring himself a shot. _Was Marius really so blind?_

"Oh, hi" said Eponine a little too quickly, then hurried off behind the bar and started her usual prep work.

"Hello Eponine, Marius has told me a lot about you" said the girl brightly.

_Oh really?_ she thought. "That's nice. Great to meet you, I have to get back to work". Marius looked puzzled by her sudden withdrawal and sat down with Cosette at a nearby table and began a hushed conversation, holding the girls hand.

She felt a light gust of wind blow through the club and looked up to see Enjolras strolling in. His walk was confident, full of purpose.

Without speaking the group started gathering around him. He had bundles of newspapers, an iPad, and scribbled notes. He began to talk to the group, all fire and rage. The Occupy movement had slowly but surely begun to take over the front pages of mainstream media and all forms of social networking. The call was going out near and far, and the media was now anticipating hundreds, if not thousands of people to attend the rally at Zuccotti Park. The huddle descended into a noisy rabble of excited ideas and passionate arguments.

* * *

After the group meeting finally ended and rehearsal began nearly two hours later, Eponine chanced to look over to Enjolras, where she found he was actively engaged in watching _her. _When he caught her eye and realised he'd been seen he coughed and looked away.

And throughout the day, so it went. She would think he was otherwise occupied and suddenly feel his eyes on her. _What is he doing? Making a study of me right now? Examining the poor girl and trying to see what makes her tick?_

She was busy with Grantaire breaking up the ice and putting it into trays, when she looked up to find Enjolras standing directly in front of her, on the other side of the bar.

"Pretzel?" she cheekily offered, placing a bowl of them in front of him.

No response. Instead, again she found herself under his intense gaze. His blue eyes seemed very dark as if there was a great battle going on behind them.

"Chip then?" she asked widening her eyes. I will _not_ relent. I _will_ break him she thought, amused. She put the potato chips on the bar.

Still nothing. Grantaire was watching now from the other end of the bar, fascinated.

Eponine leaned over and rested her head on her hands on Enjolras' side of the bar, well into his personal space.

"Enjolras?" she said. She held his gaze until it almost became unbearable. From her close proximity she was able to smell a hint of his aftershave. Clean, fresh, sophisticated with an undercurrent of something else. _Him._

"My place" he finally said.

Eponine lifted her head and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh my _Lord_" said Grantaire from the other end of the bar.

That outburst finally shook Enjolras out of his trancelike state.

"What _I meant_ to say was, are we still okay to do that research at my place, tonight?" He looked over furiously at Grantaire, as if all this was the barman's fault. In reality, he was more flustered with himself.

"Yeah, I mean sure. I brought some photos with me, and a list of places that have helped me out", said Eponine, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Good. After the gig I'll come get you" he said, standing up and walking back to the stage.

"What in the hell was that?, asked Grantaire.

"G" said Eponine," I have _no_ idea".


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Lots of things happening in this chapter. Some overt, some smaller, but also very important. I had to do a lot of research on New York City for this one. I picked the Eventi Hotel because it seemed the one most like Enjolras in interior design - all dark wood, and maroon/blood coloured accents. I also needed to get him away from Greenwich Village so we can start to see his roots. That will be further explored in the next chapter.

I listened to these songs while writing the chapter:

Rufus and Chaka Khan: _"Tell Me Something Good_" - Eponine in the bedroom.

AC/DC: _"Dirty Deeds" (Done Dirt Cheap)_ - Montparnasse

Gotye: _"Heart's a Mess"_ - for both of them

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Enjoy the story and thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Enjolras had kept to himself after speaking with Eponine at the bar. He was furious with himself for what had happened. And incensed with Grantaire for finding it so amusing.

_What is happening to me? It's like my wiring is all mixed up_. The reports he'd seen in the media had helped greatly to bring his thoughts back into focus. They were not the only group going to Zuccotti Park but it seemed they were the ones getting a fair share of the attention.

The fans of the Les Amis had exponentially increased. Jann, head of security for The Musain had to put on an extra man after the last gig, and seeing the mass of them at the stage door now, Eponine decided that had been a wise move.

The group stopped for ten minutes after the gig to sign autographs and chat with the fans but it still didn't seem enough for many of them. They all wanted to discuss the rally. They wanted to share their thoughts on the Occupy movement, share their own stories with the band. If this was even a small indication, then the rally was going to be much, much larger than any of them thought.

Eponine made her way out the staff exit in the alley, walking to the front. She caught the eye of Enjolras who was still surrounded by a large group. He motioned with his eyes towards the street. She nodded in understanding, and went to wait for him there.

She suddenly realised she had no idea where Enjolras lived. She had no idea about any details of his life. Perhaps tonight he wouldn't be the only one getting some answers.

Ten minutes later, the crowd finally dispersed and Enjolras made his way to where Eponine was standing.

"Let's go",she said, "I'm freezing my butt off here".

"We're not walking. My place is almost 2 miles away. We'll catch a cab tonight, it's too cold to go on foot", he said, signalling to the next yellow cab he saw heading their way.

_As they pulled away from the curb, they failed to notice the shadow in the window of the building directly opposite the club. Turning away from his view of the street below, Montparnasse slowly closed the curtain. Walking over to the battered chair, he sat for a moment, hand rubbing his chin, before pulling out his cell phone and punching in a phone number._

_"Yes, Mrs T, it's me, 'Parnasse. You're still planning on visiting your husband in the clink tomorrow?"he asked. "Good. Perfect. Can you pass on a message from me? Tell him….tell him I found the girl and I have a date for the job", he said, looking down at the leaflet he had in his hand._

_A rally. Confusion. It couldn't be any more perfect than if he'd planned it himself. Eponine and her band of merry mates were going to pay a heavy price for humiliating him. And as a bonus, he'd be in the boss's good books for sorting out that traitorous daughter of his._

_He grinned maliciously, and started making phone calls to the rest of the gang..._

They travelled in silence in the back of the cab, Enjolras was sitting as far to his side of the back seat as he could. Eponine was too busy looking out the window to notice, it was so rare she had the opportunity to see the city this way. People were spilling out onto the streets having just enjoyed late dinners, or Broadway shows. They were all dressed up, couples strolling along the street hand in hand. Loud, laughing groups coming out of pubs and clubs. She wondered what that was like; to belong to a group. To have your arm locked in another's.

She suddenly realised they were in the high end of the city when they passed signs to The Hampton Inn.

The cab stopped a little further up the road. They were in the middle of Manhattan. Enjolras paid the driver, got out of the cab and went over to open Eponine's door, but she was already halfway out. He silently cursed himself.

He gestured to the Eventis Hotel.

"Wait. You live in a _hotel?_" she asked.

She walked beside him as they made their way inside and across the foyer to the elevators.

"Yes, my father has basically disowned me because of my opinions of people like him, and my mother refuses to cut off contact so she lets me live in her private suite here. It's her way of defying him, you see. He's a very controlling person. He pretends not to know about it, and she pretends not to care what he thinks.

"Oh", said Eponine, "and _who_ are people like him exactly?".

"He's the head lawyer for AIG". He turned to her, waiting for a reaction.

"One of the companies the rally is protesting against?_ I_ was protesting outside their offices just last week!"

"Hmmmm, as was I", he said as he pressed the button to the 22nd Floor.

_Just one floor under the Presidential Suites_, Eponine noted as the elevator arrived.

"Don't you find this place a little..luxurious, given what you're fighting for?", she asked, stepping in.

He shrugged his shoulders, hands firmly in the pockets of his jacket.

"What _we're_ fighting for. And it's just a place to live. It doesn't _define _me. Just as surely as the places _you_ have lived, don't' define _you _either Eponine. It's just rooms. I'm on my own with everything else, just like you are. It seems we've both been assisted by benefactors in that regard".

"Well, yes, when you put it that way, it's a bit easier to understand".

The quiet bell of the elevator let them know they'd arrived at their destination. Enjolras walked over to the door farthest to the left, one of only three on the floor, his boots moving quietly on the dark marble.

He slid the card key into the slot, opening the door, and motioned for Eponine to go inside before him. Behind her he pulled his hand; he had been about to place it on the small of her back to guide her. _No!_

She nearly gasped aloud. The suite was incredible; she had never seen anything like it.

Dark timber floors, pale grey walls and luxurious rugs on the floor, the curtains a rich brown. The sofa was deep maroon and the rest of the furniture looked to be made of mahogany.

Enjolras had claimed one corner as his working space. On a long table there sat a mess of paperwork, pens, half-empty water bottles, reference books, a scattering of CD's, and a large pile of rally flyers that he hadn't had the chance to give out yet.

Aside from that, the suite looked barely lived in, though the design gave it an inherent warmth. There were no personal items, no family photographs, nothing to give away signs of the man who lived here.

"Did you eat tonight?," he asked.

"Uh no actually, we got busy, and I just forgot."

"We can order in, do you like Chinese? Kung Pao Chicken, and maybe some stir fry noodles and vegetables?" he suggested.

Something about that struck her as ridiculously funny, and she laughed. She'd never seen him eat. She'd pictured him as a marble statue indeed, who needed no sustenance, not from people, and certainly not from Kung Pao Chicken.

Again she laughed out loud. Church giggles, the _worst_.

He was looking at her the same way as he had in the club, his dark blue eyes intensely trying to figure her out.

"I'm sorry Enj", she said, recovering herself. "That sounds great, thanks".

"Find yourself somewhere comfy, and um the bathroom is that way", he pointed as he picked up his cell to place the order.

Eponine decided now was as good a time as any to check out the apartment.

She walked from the lounge in the direction he'd indicated. The bedroom was appointed directly next to the living room. She couldn't help but take a peek at it.

The floor was like the rest of the apartment, made of dark wood, the bed looked to be a king size, and sat up on luxurious cream rug. The quilt was also a rich cream colour, and maroon pillows accented them. Next to the bed upon a small chest sat more of his books, and a vintage lamp. To her amusement, opposite the bed was a huge mirror. _My my_, she thought. Who has the risqué side - mother or son? Given Jehan's chat to her she highly doubted it was Enjolras. Still, the thought of him in the bed gave life to hidden thoughts.

She was startled by his voice, suddenly next to her. "Eponine, what are you doing?".

She turned to face him; he was very close to her, less than a foot away. She could again smell the faint undercurrent of his scent. She tried not to inhale.

"Nothing, I was just..using the ladies room".

"It's right behind you", he said firmly, leaning on the doorway with a bemused expression.

"Of course".

"The take out will be here in about thirty minutes", he advised.

"Okay, great".

"''Ponine?"

"Yes?", she said, turning from the bathroom door.

"Try not to get lost on the way back, alright?"

He walked away, the beginnings of a grin on his lips. What _had _she been doing in there? He had caught her lost in thought. He'd never let anyone into his apartment before, this was his sanctuary away from the madness of the streets.

The colours of the world, his world, really _were_ changing.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N**: Thank you for the feedback and hello to the new followers of this story. A pleasure to have you on board. Is it possible, amongst a city in turmoil, in the light of encroaching chaos, to find a cocoon of safety? A place where two people can mould something of their own?

I really like this quote and I think it applies to this chapter.

_"We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit."_

The songs I listen to greatly influence each chapter, sometimes taking it a direction that's a surprise, even to me :-)

While writing this particular chapter I listened to:

**10,000 Maniacs version of:** "Because the Night"

**Lenny Kravitz**, "Heaven Help"

**Labrinth feat. Emeli Sande:** "Beneath Your Beautiful"

As always, I encourage you to listen to the songs before, during or after you read the chapter.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

When Eponine returned from freshening up, she found Enjolras had opened the swathe of curtains against the far wall. As she walked over, she could see him standing on the balcony, looking out to the city below.

She wasn't sure which was the most breathtaking sight; the buildings and the twinkling lights, the atmosphere so alive in the city that never sleeps, or Enjolras framing the view, standing flush against the railing, the cold breeze gently ruffling his hair. He was still, as still as this very building, and yet there was something so alive radiating from him_. Passion_. _Focus. Singular vision._

He suddenly turned to her and, caught in his gaze she felt self-conscious, caught in the act of observation. If he had noticed it, he didn't give any indication.

"Do you want to watch some television, before we get started?" he said, running his hand through his hair.

"I don't really watch that much, but do you have any music we can listen to?" she asked.

"Of course, we can just plug my iPod into the deck if you like?

"Sure".

Soon, the strains of Lenny Kravitz began filling the apartment.

"I would _never_ have picked you for a Kravitz fan.", she said.

"He's a great artist, and one cannot be a revolutionary twenty-four seven, it's exhausting, even for me", he said wryly.

Eponine sat down on one end of the three-seater couch, Enjolras was at the other. She took her shoes off and leaned her back against the overstuffed armrest.

"You said you brought some items with you for tonight?" he asked.

'Oh, yes". She remembered the items in her satchel. She leaned over and retrieved a small envelope containing photographs.

She pulled one photograph out; the edges were torn and frayed. In the photograph a dark haired young girl held a baby in her arms; the baby was laughing and the girl had a large grin on her face. _This is Eponine before life was cruel to her, _thought Enjolras.

"This is me and Gavroche', she said. "He was such a lovely baby. Even then he was full of mischief, look at that face", she laughed.

"You care for him very much, don't you?" asked Enjolras.

"He's a fighter, like me", she said proudly. "And he's the only family I have left, at least that's the way I think of it".

"You have no other brothers or sisters?"

"Azelma. I have a sister named Azelma. But she's in with the gang… she's lost to me", she said, a pained look crossing her face.

Eponine pulled another photograph from the envelope. She reached over very slowly and gave it to him.

Enjolras was shocked. The picture was of Eponine. Painfully thin, her clothing hanging off her. But it was not her thinness that had almost made him gasp. On almost every bit of exposed skin there were bruises in varying shades of purple, blue and yellow. Her lip was fat and a black eye on her right side had all but closed one eye.

"What-what is this?"

"This is the first picture of me that was taken at a homeless shelter, two days after I ran away from the Thenardier's".

A wave of understanding ran over Enjolras' face. Her parents had done this. Thenardier, or that thug Montparnasse. He could feel rage boiling under his skin.

"Why do you keep this photo, Eponine? Why would you want to?" he demanded.

"To remind me. To remind me why I left, you see", she said gently." Don't be so shocked Enj. I'm alive, that's something isn't it? I will _never_ let them win, and this photo reminds me why. And there were some wonderful people who helped me, who cared for me, though I was a stranger here. You asked me for some places that helped me. Common Ground in Brooklyn, were the ones. On and off over the years. You should make a point of speaking with them. They have a few offices all over the city", she said. "The rich get richer and the poor get poorer but do you know there is one homeless person in this city for every 2,506.I memorised it. In a city of 8 million people, that's an _awful_ lot of people, Enj. And now with what's happening with the banks and the economy, that number is only going to grow".

"I know, this Occupy movement is just the start 'Ponine. People are _**fed up**_. Something has to come to a head. People are struggling to come to terms with the ideology and greed of the banks versus the struggle they face in their own lives. The gap is widening, and no-one seems to want to do anything about it".

She nodded her agreement.

"Eponine, what do _you_ wish to do with your life?" he asked her.

"Well, I'm studying by correspondence the humanities and sociology, and I thought I might like to find a job as a social worker later on, when I finish my degree" she answered.

"I think you would be very suited to such a role, very well suited indeed", he said, settling back into the lounge as he regarded her thoughtfully.

The doorbell rang. Their dinner had arrived. Enjolras went to open the door. Eponine noticed he gave the delivery boy a very healthy tip.

"Do you want to eat at the table?" he asked, indicating the formal looking dining table near the kitchen.

"Why don't we just sit on the floor?" she suggested.

Enjolras brought over the bag containing the little boxes of food and placed them on the coffee table in front of them. They sat side by side on the rug, with their backs against the sofa.

"Do you have any family, Enj?" she asked as he sat down beside her.

"Aside from my parents you mean? No, I'm it, an only child. So you can imagine how the disappointment my father feels is quadrupled by _that_ fact", he said pointedly.

"And the band? How did all of you meet?

"Eponine, you are _very_ nosy, did anyone ever tell you that"?

"Quid pro quo, Enjolras. Now, kindly answer the question", she said, before taking a mouthful of the chicken.

"Most of us were students at Bard College, Jehan majored in Arts and Languages, Feuilly came in on a scholarship and studied Music and Literature, Courf, 'Ferre and I all studied Political Science and History. The band really started off only as a part-time hobby".

"And Marius?", she enquired.

"Marius went to Columbia University, The School of the Arts. We met when we advertised for a drummer for Les Amis", he said.

"You don't like him very much do you?"

"You _are_ direct, aren't you? But it's not that 'Ponine. Marius is a very worthwhile guy – when he's _focused._ And he can be casually cruel with his passions, and ridiculously blind to those around him", he said, challenging her with his eyes as he placed a chopstick full of noodles into his mouth.

"You think me foolish?"

"No. I do not. I simply think you are worthy of someone who is worthy of _you_. That's all".

_Was that a compliment? _He was looking down at his food now, a blush rising on his cheek.

"If it's of any consequence, seeing him with that girl has helped me a great deal; to separate a silly schoolgirl crush from reality. I was lonely I think, and he just happened to be the one who paid me some attention".

"And now?" he asked looking at her deep brown eyes. She was nothing if not self-aware.

"Something has changed. I can't even name it, something is just.._different_".

She reached down to grab the last dumpling with her chopsticks. Just as she almost had it, Enjolras snatched it out of the container with his own pair. She looked at him gobsmacked as he raised the dumpling to his mouth.

"You wouldn't!"

In response he put the whole thing in his mouth and swallowed it in two quick bites.

Then the strangest sound came out of his mouth. A deep, rich laughter. It woke his whole face. His eyes crinkled at the edges, his dark eyes lightened.

It was such an odd sight to see him laugh, that Eponine let out a loud peal of laughter herself in response. The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; electric, yet warm and comforting.

Still laughing, he noticed something amiss, "You have a little something on your lip", he told her, pointing at the spot.

Eponine reached up to wipe her mouth. "Gone?" she asked.

"No, not there, the other side".

Eponine tried again. "Did I get it?"

"No", he said, still laughing, "Here let me, it's the least I can do". He reached up with his thumb to move the runaway noodle. Eponine was still chuckling, but Enjolras was suddenly dead serious. His thumb had removed the noodle but still lingered on her bottom lip. All the feelings of their last kiss had come rushing back to him. Eponine stopped laughing. She could feel it too.

Enjolras went to remove his hand, then felt Eponine's hand on his, guiding it back to her mouth. She kissed his palm, looking at him while she did so, then gently placed his thumb to her mouth, caressing it with her lips. The sensation of it shell-shocked his entire body. He tried to resist the feelings rising in him and lost.

He put his food down on the table, and moving over to her, he removed his thumb from her mouth and replaced it with his lips, his other hand entwining with hers, lingering on the feeling. The need to be closer to her was almost overpowering. He wanted to taste her and to be tasted.

He moved in front of her, kneeling and leant down as he moved her back up against the sofa. She moaned softly as she felt his mouth seeking access and again as his tongue touched hers, delicately at first, then with more passion as he became increasingly aroused. She caught his bottom lip in her mouth, holding it there for a moment and making him growl with pleasure.

He kissed her gently now, slowly exploring every inch of her mouth, languishing in the pure enjoyment of her. He could feel how what he was doing made _her_ feel. Her body was humming with the sensuality of it, and it fascinated him. He released her lips and leaned down to her neck, finding the skin there scented with vanilla and gardenia. He kissed the exposed skin between her shoulder and neck. He knew he should stop, unsure of where it might lead but he was also unwilling to give up _this_, just yet. He trailed his lips along her collarbone, outlining it with his mouth.

He pulled her to her knees, so they were facing each other and took her face in his hands kissing her deeply. She ran her fingers down the muscles of his chest and he shuddered, pulling her closer. He bent down, and kissed her once more before pulling away and leaning back on his heels.

They sat apart, twin images, facing each other. Both were breathing heavily and unwilling to break their eye contact.

"What are we doing?", Eponine finally said, breaking the silence and the atmosphere.

"I don't know" said Enjolras as he reached out to hold her hand.

"Am I just an experiment for you?", she asked softly.

"No. At first, maybe a little. I wanted to hear about your experiences. But now..there is something about you 'Ponine, something that I'm drawn to. Do you feel it?"

"Yes" she said holding his eyes. She saw truth there. "What do we do now?" she asked.

He stood up, reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head.

'I don't know. But for starters, we can finish our dinner" he replied. "Though we probably need to reheat the noodles".

"You owe me a dumpling, buddy", she said, challenging him.

"Ponine?"

"Hmmm?", she said abstractly, still thinking of the need she had felt in him.

'Will you help _me_ tomorrow? Maybe I can help you distribute some food and you could help me hand out some more flyers? And what about I pay you back for the dumpling by making you dinner?"

"You can cook?"

"Indeed" he held out a hand to help her to her feet, and encircling her waist with his hands. "I meant what I said you know. You _are_ extraordinary".

"Then its yes to helping you, and yes to dinner", she smiled.

They finished their meal standing at the counter, then after packing the garbage away he turned to her.

"You should stay here tonight. It's too late to go home. I'll take the lounge", he offered.

"We _can_ sleep in the same bed without ravishing each other, you know. We are adults", Eponine replied.

"'Ponine as sure as the sun rises, you know that to be untrue", he laughed darkly. "Sleep well, I'll see you in the morning". He kissed her on the forehead.

"Good night Enjolras", she responded softly, and made her way to the other room.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N**: Firstly to those that read Chapter 12 straight away, I had to change the level of intimacy. Too much too soon and bit of excitement on my part. Thanks to _stagepageandscreen_ for pointing it out. And now, to this chapter; I won't say much except the path of love never runs smoothly does it?

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

_Must I go bound, while you go free  
Must I love a man, who doesn't love me  
Must I be born with so little art  
As to love a man who'll break my heart  
_- Cassandra Clare, 'A Clockwork Prince'

_The shattering of a heart being broken, is the loudest quiet ever  
_ - Carroll Bryant

**Songs I listened to while writing this;**

Natalie imbruglia: "Torn"

Samantha Barks: "On My Own"

Lisa Loeb: "Stay"

* * *

**Chapter 13:**

Eponine woke up feeling refreshed, and contented but for a moment she was confused as to where she was. The mattress felt like fifteen layers of down had been pumped into it and the pillows were perfect. Not too soft, not too firm.

She realised she had no clean clothes to put on. _The walk of shame, and I haven't even done anything shameful! _She thought.

She jumped out of bed, realising she was only in her t-shirt and underpants, before quickly putting on her jeans and strolling out to the living room ruffling her hair. She was unaware of the time but given the light coming into the room, she figured it to be late morning.

"Good Morning", said a voice from the balcony.

Enjolras was sitting at the small table outside, reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. He was in a new t-shirt and jeans and his hair looked freshly washed.

"There's coffee on the counter over there, and the kettle has just boiled", he said, smiling over at her.

"Oh, thanks. 'Morning. Hey, did you shower? I didn't even hear you go by me", she asked him.

"You were sleeping pretty heavily, I didn't want to wake you, you looked too peaceful".

"You were watching me?" she asked.

He suddenly found something very interesting in the paper, and kept his head down. "No, no, I wasn't watching you".

"Following me to the alleys, watching me when I sleep. You could make a pretty decent stalker, you know?"

He grinned at that. "So, there's a whole range of different cereals to choose from, and fresh milk in the fridge, and a little bit of fruit if you wanted it", he said, changing the subject.

"Thanks, hmm…Cheerios. That's me",she said as she grabbed a bowl and some milk from the almost-empty fridge. _He's as bad a shopper as I am._

Enjolras suddenly got up from the table with a concerned expression on his face. In his hand he held his cell phone. He angrily punched in a text message.

'What's wrong?" she asked, putting down the box of cereal.

He didn't respond. His cell beeped. Another message. Pacing the balcony, again he typed back a response.

"Enjolras?", she questioned.

"My father. My _mother_. It seems he thinks a way to dissuade me from going to the rally tomorrow and "embarrassing" him is to convince my mother to throw me out of the suite".

"When?", asked Eponine worriedly.

"Thirty minutes from _now_, according to my mother, or rather – my mother's secretary".

"Now? But where will you stay?".

"I can bunk with 'Ferre and then I can figure it out from there", Enjolras answered.

"You could stay with me, if you like", she offered.

"No", he said absentmindedly.

"Why not? Just until you sort yourself out? It will only be for a short while, and it's close to the club", she smiled at him.

"I don't think so. It's not appropriate, Eponine", he said, pacing the floor.

"It's not_ appropriate_?" she repeated, herface flushing with colour.

"That's right", he said.

"And why not?".

"Because we're not "together", it wouldn't be right, what would people think? And I don't want people knowing about us", he said, concentrating on the phone.

She put the bowl down on the bench. "_Of course_. I'm so _extraordinary_, but we're not TOGETHER. Do you realise I have to do the walk of shame this morning to the club? In this same outfit?. How _appropriate_ do you think that is, what do you think people will make of_ that_?".

"That's not what I meant, you _know_ that's not what I meant, and it's not the same thing".

"Fuck you, Enj. I know exactly what you meant. But oh, how you _do_ say pretty things under the cover of night. Have a little fun? Learn about how tough it really is on the street? Dally a little bit with me, then crawl back in your shell. Comforted in the knowledge that you've had _one_ human experience? I should have known. You arrogant _ass_!".

"Eponine, you're blowing this out of proportion. Be logical, _please_. I don't have time for this right now, the rally is tomorrow and now I have to sort this out, it's a disaster".

I don't have time for _this_ either", she said. She hurriedly put on her shoes, and grabbed her jacket and satchel bag.

"Ponine, wait! What about the rally tomorrow? What about dinner… what about last night?".

"I'll be at the rally. I'm going for _**myself **_Enjolras. Myself and people like me. That has nothing to do with you and your cause. Regarding dinner, you're on your own, and as for last night…that was a mistake, _my_ mistake. I let you in, and I shouldn't have", she said firmly, before turning away, towards the door. _I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry in front of him ever again._

He instantly regretted his poor choice of words to her. He moved towards her, taking a step forward. And then his cell rang.

Eponine had paused momentarily in the minute beforehand, waiting for him to say something, anything, even though she was still furious. Then she heard the cell call come in and knew the moment had been lost.

She turned back for a second to look at him. He was fiery, yelling at someone on the other end of the phone. He had his back to her but even so, he really was something when he got going. Majestically angry – that was a good description. She gave a wry smile, and then silently opened the door.

When he'd finished the call, he turned around. Eponine was gone.

* * *

Eponine stalked down the avenue to the subway. In the morning light, the pavement shone like silver. She was angry, and sad, and her heart felt so heavy she thought it might drag her to the ground.

What did she care about Enjolras anyway?. A rich boy with a cause. A good looking guy with a guitar. Big deal. Only it didn't ring true. She did care. And she hated that it was so.

She decided she needed a time out; she would visit the alleys in the afternoon instead of this morning. She needed to go somewhere peaceful and clear her head. She pulled out her cell and tried to call Grantaire, only to be greeted by the familiar theme song from 'Cheers" on his voicemail._ He's got it switched off. I can't deal with the club today._ She left a message letting him know she wouldn't be in, and then switched her cell off as well.

Though her heart was heavy with sadness, she was not defeated._ Tomorrow I'm going to the rally, and I'm going to stand up for people like me and Gavroche. And all this can wait. I've come too far to let another rejection kill me._ For a moment her thoughts turned to how softly Enjolras had looked at her last night, how wonderful it had felt to be held by him; the way he had listened, really listened to her. She shook away the thoughts, and boarded the train.  
_  
_

* * *

The band were already in the club, and chatting amongst themselves when Enjolras finally arrived. Grantaire looked lost at the bar. Courfeyrac caught his eye as he soon as he walked in.

"Enjolras have _you_ seen Eponine?", he asked." I was supposed to pick her up this morning, and she wasn't at her apartment".

_Damn, I forgot to tell him_. "She stayed at my place", he said, and did not miss the looks the group gave each other. "Is she not here? I thought she was working today?".

"No, she's not here you bloody idjit", yelled Grantaire. "What happened? She never misses a day off work".

"Shut up you wine cask, for god's sake!" Enjolras yelled back at him. His patience had well and truly worn thin with the barman.

"What was she doing at your place?" Grantaire demanded, moving around from behind the bar..

"She was helping me understand the way things work in the city for the homeless, things you can't get from a textbook", explained Enjolras.

"I'll _bet_", mocked Grantaire.

Courfeyrac stood up, "That is _uncalled _for Grantaire".

Combeferre agreed and said so. As did Feuilly, "You have no reason to say such things, she has been nothing but kind to us, to _all _of us, and she has covered your butt on more than one occasion".

Grantaire backed down immediately, crestfallen, "I'm sorry lads. Enjolras I'm sorry. I'm just worried about her, she's never late for work, and she _never_ takes a day off. And now you're telling me you don't know where she is. And that thug, that bastard could still be after her".

Enjolras suddenly realised under the rough, mostly drunken exterior, there lay a caring man. Albeit well hidden. He still had much to learn about the human condition.

"And she hasn't called _you_ Grantaire?", Enjolras asked.

"I wouldn't know. I lost my phone last night", he responded bashfully.

Enjolras looked around at them. It seems Eponine's spirit had not only touched him. And he had no idea how to make it right, or where to find her. For one of only few times in his life, he didn't know what to do. It made him uneasy. _This is why I've avoided entanglements. _he thought to himself._ It does a man's head no good at all._

He went over to the stage alone, trying to figure out what to do.

"What happened?" said a voice behind him. He turned to find Jehan standing beside him with a questioning expression on his face.

"Nothing" said Enjolras, stoneyfaced.

"_Enjolras"._

"I..I don't know. I might have kissed her".

"Well, did you or didn't you?"

Enjolras put his hands on his hips and exhaled. "I did. Twice".

"Twice! And then what?" Jehan pushed.

"Jehan is this necessary?" Enjolras responded, finding his shoelaces suddenly intriguing.

"Tell me".

Enjolras looked up at his old friend. "My parents evicted me this morning, and Eponine said I could crash at her place, it was a god-awful mess and then I..I mishandled it."

"So basically, you've ballsed it up".

"Succinctly put, Jehan".

"Are you in love with her?" his friend asked pointedly.

"What? No, it's only been a few days. I like her very much, I respect her views".

"Is she your friend? Do you regard her well?".

"Yes, I consider her to be my friend".

"A-ha! Your friend that you have _**kissed**_!" said Jehan triumphantly.

"_Fuck it_, I might be in love with her. No. I don't know. Sweet Jesus, I don't know" said Enjolras, sitting down hard on the nearest chair, running a hand through his hair.

"Come but for friendship and took away love, Thomas Moore said that", announced Jehan.

"_Do not_ quote poetry to me right now, Jehan, I beg of you".

"Some people never say the words I love you  
It's not their style to be so bold  
Some people never say those words; I love you  
But like a child, they're longing to be told" – said Jehan quietly.

"Jeh _".

"Don't scold me, it's _not_ a poem, it's a song by Paul Simon", he said.

"Same difference".

Jehan patted Enjolras reassuringly on the shoulder, then turned to the rest of the band and clapped his hands, getting their attention.

"'Right lads, this is how it's going to play out, okay?. We're going to knock over this last meeting in an hour and a half. Then ..we're going to go look for Eponine, alright?".

They looked to Enjolras in unison. He nodded, silently giving his approval.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N**: Sorry for the longer than normal wait. I haven't really had any feedback, and I'm not asking for any but it is difficult to judge how well the story is going over without it. Anyhow, here it is. Enjoy :-)

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

Songs listened to:

John Lennon, "Imagine" – the boys walking around NYC, the Occupy movement taking shape.

"Where Are You Now?" by Mumford and Sons

"I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz

Todd Rundgren: "I Saw the Light"

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Enjolras pondered if all their future meetings should be this short. They'd gotten an incredible amount of work done in the ninety minutes they'd allocated before setting off to find Eponine. They'd been rehearsing for the rally for almost two weeks, so he had no fear about their perfomance. The band were tight. They were ready for tomorrow, and unified in their concern for Eponine. Even Marius had appeared with renewed vigour. His concern for Eponine was clear and both he and Cosette offered to help in the search for her.

The decision was made to look for her until the sun went down, then meet back at The Musain, where Grantaire was anxiously waiting to hear news. They all had their cell phones and would call Enjolras if they found her.

Enjolras had despatched the band to all corners of the city. Marius had helped him with some of her favourite places, so they decided those were as good a place as any to begin.

When the group began to disperse, it was then they saw what awaited them tomorrow at the rally. The whole city had come alive. There were 'Occupy Wall Street' signs at every turn; buskers were singing protest songs on every street corner. New York had become the centre of the dissatisfaction millions of Americans were feeling. The increased police presence on the street gave rise to a heightened atmosphere. There was excitement, tension and a feeling that something big was about to happen.

Courfeyrac had been sent to Common Ground in Brooklyn to see if Eponine had perhaps checked in with them. But they hadn't heard from her in more than a month and could offer no assistance as to where she might be.

They thought perhaps she went to see her brother, but Feuilly found that Child Services wouldn't give out the name of Gavroche's foster parents, understandably, so they had reached a dead end in that regard. Instead, he went to the alleyways with Combeferre that Enjolras had mentioned she visited. They didn't find her but vowed to come back themselves and assist Eponine when they saw how in need the people were.

Jehan, ever the romantic, journeyed to the waterways thinking she may be pondering on a ferry or contemplating by the Hudson. And again, she was not there though Jehan did take note of the many passing news crews he saw in his travels.

By the time five o'clock came around they were all tired, without even a whisper of hope or a possible sighting. The shadows were getting longer and their leader made the difficult decision to tell them all to begin heading back to the Village.

Enjolras had had a long time to ponder, walking the streets looking for Eponine. He missed her, and the depth of it had surprised him. It had not even been a full day, but the thought that he might not see her again pained him incredibly. Or that he might see her at the club, and not be the recipient of her smile. She had fire in her soul, and yet she hadn't let her harsh experiences of life, harden the tenderness of her heart. He regretted every single word he'd misspoken and wished with each fibre of his being that he were able to erase those minutes and do it all over again.

Exhausted and with no other options to take, he decided to shortcut back to The Musain via Washington Square Park. He paused for a few minutes by the Washington Arch to look at the fountain and take in the view of the buildings framing the park above the tree line.

It was then he saw her, sitting alone in the dwindling last light of day on a park bench. The rays of the sun were catching in the tendrils of her dark hair, making it look like the ends were aflame. Wearing a dark blue blazer, jeans and cream beret, she was sitting by the Garibaldi statue, which he found fitting, given its inspiration was the commander of the insurrectionist forces in Italy's struggle for unification.

The relief when he saw her was immense.

She had her headphones on, reading a magazine and she was completely oblivious to him until he was only a few feet away. She looked up, startled and after a moment she turned and started walking away.

"Eponine!" he called after her.

Eponine had spent the whole day, after briefly going back to her apartment for a shower, walking around the city trying to make sense of the past few days. Things had happened in such a rush that she felt herself on a rollercoaster that hadn't yet completed its run. So much had transpired it was no wonder her emotions were all over the place. The end of her unrequited affection for Marius, the altercation with Montparnasse, the arrival of Cosette, her new friendship with Enjolras, and the intimate moments that she had shared with him. It was a _blur_. And it needed to stop. Just for a moment so she could catch her breath. And now, when she felt finally she had her head together, here was Enjolras.

"No". She started walking faster, before breaking into a run.

_She's running from me. She's actually running away from me_. _Goddammit!_ He started running himself, the two of them drawing attention from other visitors to the park, who turned to watch the pair bolting down the path.

And she was _quick._ She was rapidly pulling away from him. He needed to pick up the pace or Eponine would be gone once she got out onto the street. He saw a way to head her off, and when she turned quickly to see where he was, he had disappeared.

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of her, and she found herself pushed from the path onto the grass. Enjolras had tackled her. _Tackled her._ And now he was lying flush on top of her, his arms wrapped around her body in a rugby hold.

They were virtually nose to nose. For one second she looked into his eyes. Then at his lips, that were so close to hers. Then she exploded.

"What the _hell _are you doing? Get off me!" She yelled, wriggling out of his grasp, and standing up. She brushed the grass off her clothing angrily.

"What did you expect me to do? You were running away from me! Like a child for goodness sake!_"_ he shot back. He was fit, but that dash had exhausted him. He had a stitch and hands on hips he was bent in half, trying to get rid of it.

"Did it ever cross your mind that I didn't want to speak to you?! What are you _doing_ here anyway? How did you find me?"

I've been looking for you. We've _all_ been looking for you. All over the city".

"What are you talking about? Why? I _called_ Grantaire. He knew I wasn't coming in".

"No, you don't understand", he puffed, "Grantaire lost his phone. He didn't get the message. _No-one_ knew where you were. And that guy could still be after you. So you see….you've caused quite a bit of concern."

"Oh", she let that sink in. "Well that still doesn't excuse you bloody bundling me to the ground like that. What's your problem?"

"_My_ problem is how we ended things this morning".

"I don't want to talk about it"

"Eponine," he said, steadily. "Just give me a moment to say what I need to say. This is not my forte', and you may still be angry with me afterwards, but I need to talk to you".

"There's nothing to say, just let me _go_".

"There's _plenty_ to say. At least on my side of it".

She realised he wasn't going to give up, or let her leave until he'd said his piece. _Might as well make the best of it._

"_Fine._ Fine", she said irritably. "We can sit on that bench over there".

They sat down together. Both of them waited a moment to let their frazzled nerves settle.

Enjolras took a deep breath. _Moment of truth, _he thought.

"'Ponine, I regret what I said to you this morning. It didn't come out the way I intended it to. When I said I didn't want anyone to know about us that was wrong. I didn't mean to make you feel I was ashamed to be seen with you. How could I be? You're bright, and committed and caring, and –"

"Enjo-"

"I'm not finished, this is difficult for me, so just let me get it out, okay".

"Alright", she said quietly.

"And when I said we weren't together, I didn't mean that either, but do _you_ know what we are? I don't, and I don't know how to define it. If we suddenly put it out there for everyone else to see then we lose that moment to figure out what we are for _ourselves"._

She had turned to look at him now. When he realised, he looked up and caught her gaze, but continued speaking.

"I'm a singer in a rock band, there's groupies..male _and_ female, and by all accounts I should _know _how all this goes. But I don't. I've had exactly two partners and the length of each relationship might make them contenders for the Guinness Book of Records. _These_ are the things I know to be true; I missed you today. The feeling of you being upset with me, that I had hurt you, or that something had happened to you…."

He reached down and put his hand on her knee. His voice was softer now, but still direct and firm.

"But most of all Eponine, I missed _talking_ to you. I missed the way you talk about life. I'm not an emotional person, that much is true. But if there was one thing I couldn't forgive myself for, it would be leaving things the way they were this morning, without you knowing..without you knowing that I have feelings for you".

Startled by his final words, Eponine was defeated. She had no reply for the honesty he had just laid bare, and she knew it had taken an astounding effort for him to open himself up this way. She'd hardened to his words before he began to speak but once he started, and the words kept coming, the words that she knew must have been difficult to say, her defences were broken.

Enjolras was looking at her almost defiantly, waiting for the onslaught he felt sure was about to take place, but instead he felt her entwine her hand with his.

"Enjolras, do you know I've spent the whole day trying to figure out what happened this morning? All that has happened this week? I overreacted this morning, everything just seemed to come at me in a rush, and I could see you had something else to deal with. I'm sorry for my part in it. It's just well.. I feel like I've been thrown from pillar to post emotionally but -".

"I know the feeling", Enjolras said.

" – I feel something for you too", she finished.

"You do?", he searched her brown eyes.

"You know I do, _don't you_?".

In response he reached his hand into her hair and pulled her in closely for a gentle, tender kiss before breaking away.

"I have to call the others, and let them know I've found you". He got up and walked a few feet away. He called Courfeyrac and asked him to check in with the rest of the group.

When he finished, he walked over and took Eponine's bag for her, looping it over his shoulder.

"Let's get you home".

* * *

They didn't speak the whole way to Eponine's apartment which was only three blocks from the park, but each could feel the closeness of the other as they walked. They were holding hands and leaning into one another as they made their way home. There was a new intimacy between them that shimmered and made everything look new. The streets were lined with trees, and now in the middle of Autumn, their leaves were all shades of red, orange and yellow, giving the neighbourhood a burnished beauty.

When they got to the door of her home, there was no discussion as to whether he was coming in. She turned the key and he followed her indoors silently. He put her bag down on the floor and turned to her.

"Come here" he said roughly, closing the gap between them, and pulling her to him. He brushed her lips with his, taking his time with the kiss.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**: Things are getting complicated aren't they? And that isn't going to change any time soon. A surprising visit from a beloved character. True motivations are revealed. A little twist in a relationship, and a bad deal about to make things very bad indeed. This was a quick update. The muse is strong in this one :-)

This was quite an incredible week to be writing this chapter. In Turkey, the OccupyGezi movement were empowered by a rendition of "Do You Hear the People Sing" from the musical. It's on YouTube if you care to look it up. Les Mis inspires many, from all walks of life, no?

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to: **

Mazzy Star: "Fade Into You"

Les Miserables Cast: "One Day More" (even though I know the day has already arrived)

Michael Jackson: "Smooth Criminal"

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Eponine woke, fully rested after sleeping heavily following the events of the previous day. She slowly opened her eyes as the early morning sun started to filter into the room. _Rally Day._

She felt a movement behind her and an arm tighten around her waist. _Enjolras is in my bed._ Through the fog of sleep she recalled the events after they arrived at home. They had been exhausted, almost too exhausted to eat, and filled with relief that the tension between them had been broken. They'd eaten a light meal before crashing out. She hadn't asked him to sleep in her bed; he'd just cuddled up next to her, fully clothed, offering her comfort and security from all that had transpired. She'd felt the current of sexual tension initially but they had both settled down quickly to a good night's sleep.

Now, in the cold light of day she felt awkward. _What if I have morning breath?_ She was sleeping in a singlet top and full length striped pyjama pants yet felt suddenly naked next to his still sleeping form.

She rolled carefully on to her back so as not to wake him. His arm stayed wrapped around her waist under the doona. In the dawn light he looked peaceful. His hair was perfectly messed and his full lips looked enticingly full as he pouted in his sleep.

"Now who's the stalker?" he suddenly mumbled.

"You're awake?"

"Barely..mmmm this is comfortable", he said, slowly opening his eyes and snuggling closer.

"Are you a revolutionary or a teddy bear?

"You are my sweetest downfall" he replied, nuzzling into her neck.

"Smooth talk in the morning, I could get used to that".

"Oh really?" he said propping himself up on one elbow to face her, "And what else could you get used to, I wonder?" He moved his hand to her hip and rolled her towards him, dipping his head down to meet hers, placing a firm kiss on her lips. At the same time Eponine could feel his hands, warm and firm on her hips, tracing the outline of her pyjamas. She giggled.

"Ticklish?" he asked.

"A little.."

"And what about here", he said as he kissed her neck? _God that felt amazing!_

"No"

"No? Really? Hmmm…here? He trailed kisses from her neck to her décolletage. He stopped for a moment, taking in the sweet scent of vanilla and gardenia he found there. _This could get out of hand, _he thought, as his lips trailed back up and under her ear.

She couldn't help it; a soft moan escaped her lips. He raised his head to meet her eyes, they were heavy with desire, as were his.

He shifted his weight slightly so he was lying on top of her and his need for her was evident as he did so. Raising both of her arms over her head he continued kissing her décolletage. As he moved down her body, he could feel her arousal through the thin layer of her cotton singlet. Enjolras brought one hand up and began stroking her breast, his parted lips caressing the curves of the other through her shirt.

That's my buzzer going off', she mumbled, hearing an annoying sound coming from the front of the flat.

"Mmmm…not yet", Enjolras responded, inching further down under the blankets.

"No, Enj… Enjolras it's the buzzer on the _intercom_", she replied.

"Ignore it", he said gaining access to her mouth and exploring it with his tongue. _I'm going to die from ecstasy,_ thought Eponine.

Regretfully she pulled herself out of his grasp, sitting up and ruffling her hair.

"It's Rally Day Enj, it could be important..even if it is only…. seven o'clock?"_ Seven o'clock! Who would be at her apartment at seven o'clock!_

Enjolras rolled over, frustrated and buried his face in the pillow as Eponine ran down the hall to answer the intercom.

"Yes?" she said into the speaker.

"'Ponine? It's Combeferre and Jehan. Courf is down the road getting us all coffee but he'll be here in a minute too. Is um…is Enjolras with you?"

"Yes, I'm here", answered Enjolras, running a hand through his hair lazily as he strolled up to where Eponine was near the front door.

"We've had some incredible news about a speaker at the rally? Can we come in?

"Give me…five, no ten minutes?" he said, half to his audience downstairs and partly to Eponine. She silently nodded.

"Sure", responded Combeferre.

Eponine released the intercom button and turned to look at him, a sheepish grin on her face.

He shrugged, "It's official..they have the worst timing _ever_". He pulled her over and kissed her forehead. "To be continued".

"You can jump in the shower first if you want to. Fresh towels are in the cupboard on the right and I have an oversized Zeppelin tee that might fit you", she offered.

"Thanks, I'll only be a minute". He was as good as his word, and as soon as he was finished Eponine quickly jumped in after him, giving her hair a good wash, and afterwards applying a light makeup before dressing in leggings, calf length boots and an oversized man-style collared shirt.

When she came out of her room, Enjolras had already let the others in and they were all excitedly talking in the living room. A large unattended coffee sat next to an empty space on the sofa. If they had questions about the two of them, they knew better than to ask Enjolras, and they certainly wouldn't question Eponine in her own home no matter how curious they might be.

"Is that Skinny Cap mine?" she asked, pointing to the coffee.

"It is", smiled Jehan, "I'm so glad you're alright Eponine. You gave us all quite a scare yesterday. If you're going to be part of Les Amis, we should keep in closer contact".

The comment caught her off guard.

"You all consider me part of the group?" she asked hesitatingly, looking around at all of them.

"Well, not the band, said Jehan, "but certainly in regards to our other activities, yes absolutely, why not? Feuilly and 'Ferre would like to help you out with feeding the homeless, and you could be part of our activities as well. Only if you want to, of course".

She could see Enjolras' face from where she sat. Was he..proud? He was beaming at her.

"You know about that? The alleys?", she asked.

"Enjolras and Marius told us yesterday, I hope you don't mind", said Courfeyrac.

"No, I don't mind. I-I don't know what to say. What do you think Enjorlas?"

The group were a little bemused by this. Eponine asking someone else's opinion? _Unheard of._

"I think it's a great idea", a smile playing on his lips, but looking around at the group he coughed and reverted back to his normally stony, focused exterior. "So, what _is_ this news you had to rush over and tell me", he asked.

"Valjean has resurfaced. News in the underground is he will be speaking _today_. Directly before we go on, in fact", said Combeferre.

"This is excellent news, excellent." Enjolras was on his feet.

"Who is this Valjean?" asked Eponine.

"He's incredible", explained Enjolras, " no one has ever seen him but he has been at the forefront of the underground movement since it began. Publishing exposes on the big corporations, shady banking deals. You name it he's probably been involved in it. There's a rumour he's also behind several large charitable donations to homeless facilities and food rescue operations".

"How will you know it's him if you've never seen him?" said Eponine.

"Only one person has ever seen him, as far as we know" said Jehan." One of the CNN reporters - Anderson Cooper. He vowed never to give him away and he never has. He's going to escort him in".

"It's going to add an incredible element to the rally, Feuilly, Marius, Cosette and Grantaire are meeting us at the mark at noon. We go on at two", said Courfeyrac.

"Grantaire is coming to the rally?" said Enjolras disbelievingly.

_Are they all really so blind?"_, thought Eponine. _Something must be said._

"Yeah man, he's not even opening up The Musain today. He said he's committed." replied Feuilly.

"Ok, well I'm certainly not going to turn him away" Enjolras said as he got up and leaned on the kitchen bench. "So I have my speech, the set list is done, and the van is loaded ready to go with the gear, right?"

The three men on the coach nodded in agreement.

Ok then, I guess we'll see you at Zuccotti at midday", he said clapping his hands. _He's ushering them out of my apartment,_ Eponine mused.

"Oh, ok, yes, we've got to get going. Things to do", said Courfeyrac. "I'll keep an eye out for your brother, 'Ponine".

"He's been told not to go, Courf'".

Courfeyrac smiled at that. "I think he's as likely to do as he's told as _you_ are".

They all laughed at that, and made their way to the door. Before leaving, Jehan gave Eponine a surprisingly warm hug.

'What's that for?" she asked, delighted.

He motioned with his eyes to Enjolras who was chatting with Courfeyrac, "You're good for him". She smiled back but said nothing.

When they'd finally gone, Enjolras closed the door to find Eponine staring at him with a solemn expression.

"It's going to be quite a day isn't it?" she asked.

"More than I could hope for, especially now Valjean is making an appearance" he said. She was still regarding him with the same serious look on her face.

"What, what did I do?"

"Enj, why do you think Grantaire drinks?" she asked tentatively.

"I have no idea".

"I think I do. Unrequited love is not an easy thing to take, Enjolras. Some people need to drink it away", she said softly.

"How do you know this? Who is the poor beast he crushes on?"

"I know very well that look because of my situation with Marius, and as to the object of his affection…"

She looked pointedly at him and said nothing. Enjolras looks at first confused then formed an O shape with his mouth.

"Me, No you're wrong, he –"

"Enj you _cannot_ be unaware..."

"He can't stand me", said Enjolras as he shifted uncomfortably on the spot.

"And at times _I_ have hated Marius.."

"What is it you expect me to do about it? I do not feel the same way, obviously" he said gesturing between himself and Eponine.

"Nothing. Just be a little kinder to him, that's all. Underneath the rest of it, he's a good man".

"And you don't resent him?" he asked her.

"Resent him for what? Admiring what _I_ admire in you? No, I could never".

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into an embrace. "Did I ever tell you that you were extraordinary?"

"Maybe once or twice" she said grinning.

* * *

Unbeknownst to any of them, on the other side of town, a deal was going down. Fifty-thousand dollars was being exchanged for five replica uniforms of the NYPD, complete with forged badge numbers, and Glock 19 handguns.

Montparnasse smirked to himself as they drove away from the dingy backstreet. Les Amis and Eponine would never see them coming.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**: The following two chapters are a compressed, fictional account of real events that took place in Zuccotti Park between September 17, 2011 and November 15, 2011. The speeches by Enjolras and Valjean were influenced by actor Mark Ruffalo's thoughts on the Occupy Movement, reports by Anderson Cooper of CNN, and eyewitness accounts of the Occupy Movement in Zuccotti Park. To get the feeling of Les Amis on stage I watched U2 performing 'Sunday Bloody Sunday' at Red Rocks in Colorado in 1983. Worth a watch if you want to get a good idea of the way my version of Enjolras is on stage :-) Think a very young Bono crossed with Aaron Tveit's Enjolras.

Surprisingly (to me at least – I'm not a fan) one of the best videos on the Occupy Movement footage wise comes from Miley Cyrus and her song 'Liberty Walk'. Again, it's worth watching to see the atmosphere in the park.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to: **

_U2: 'Sunday Bloody Sunday'_

_U2: 'Helter Skelter'_

_Fun: 'Some Nights'_

_Matt Corby: 'Brother'_

_Les Miserables Cast (2012): "Do You Hear the People Sing?'_

* * *

**Chapter 15**

It was a beautiful day in New York City. A clear blue sky with few clouds hung over the skyline, and even though it was early Fall, it was warm enough to only wear a light jacket. The energy in the city was strong enough so one could almost touch it. The streets were teaming with people. New Yorkers were a tough crowd but even they were impressed with the enthusiasm of the many people that had descended upon the city ahead of today's massive rally in the Financial District.

Enjolras had left Eponine's apartment to go to Combeferre's house to change for the rally; his things were being stored there until he could work out the housing situation, so it made sense. He would meet Eponine at the South Entrance to Zuccotti Park with the rest of Les Amis at noon.

Eponine in the meantime was trying to get in touch with Gavroche to reinforce to him that as much as he liked Courfeyrac and felt the rally was for him, that he should stay as far away as possible. Gavroche had an intrinsic knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and today of all days Eponine wanted to make sure he listened to her.

When Eponine arrived at the southern entrance to Zuccotti Park she realised she might never find Enjolras or the rest of the group in the crowd. It was chaotic, and the crowd were one hundred wide and deep. There were signs being held and erected; WE THE PEOPLE, ONE REVOLUTION and TAKE BACK OUR DEMOCRACY, they read. Eponine knew it was too noisy in the park to make a voice call. Instead she sent a text to Enjolras, "Here. Where are you?" it said. Within seconds, a message came back; "Stage, to the right. Yellow tent xx".

She could see the bright canvas even from where she stood on the street and made her way there through the ever-growing crowd. Eponine was excited for what the day would bring, but had a gnawing feeling in her stomach that felt off. _I'm just being paranoid again_, she thought and tried to put the feeling aside.

The stage for the rally and Les Amis was at the top of the stairs at the north end of the park. It had been petitioned so they had an area comprised of a few tents and marquees to go to when coming off stage, but otherwise it was a fairly open affair.

When Eponine got to the tent the band were already inside getting changed for the gig. Enjolras was trying on a red military style jacket that looked like it belonged to another era.

"Hey", he said grinning, coming over to her. "Did you see the crowd? It's crazy out there. Unbelievable. What do you think of this jacket?"

"It's incredible out there, there's a lot of police presence though. Do you think there'll be trouble? Oh no, Enj...the jacket has to go...you look like Adam Ant".

"Hrmmph" he said, taking it off and picking up his trusty black leather one instead, "I quite _liked _it. I think the police are here just as a precaution. Nothing to worry about. Oh yeah...um Marius brought Cosette with him. But Eponine…your brother is also here. Courf' and I tried to talk him into going home but he's hell bent on staying. They're going to watch from the side of the stage with Grantaire. You can hang with them if you want, during the set..if you're alright with that?"

Just as he finished speaking, Grantaire walked in. Enjolras walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "Hey man, good to see you here, thanks for coming out to support us", he said.

Surprised, Grantaire smiled, "Yeah well, you know that's what friends do and I believe in the cause - and all that". Eponine watched the interaction with a warmed heart. Even the thought of Cosette no longer bothered her. And she would keep a keen eye on Gavroche'. _Everything is going to be okay._

Outside the tent there was a sudden lull in the crowd noise. Valjean had arrived. They all went to stand outside to see catch a glimpse of the mysterious philanthropist and revolutionary.

* * *

Across the park a white SUV had arrived trailed by two CNN vans. Out of the first van jumped a camera crew, followed by the sound technician.

The door of the SUV opened slowly and Anderson Cooper emerged. He was serious; this was not a light moment. He did not wave at the crowd but smiled reassuringly. Motioning to the other passenger concealed in the back, he nodded his head.

At first the crowd saw only a rugged hiking boot, followed by a jean leg, and then at last the whole man emerged from the vehicle. Aged in his sixties, and wearing a t-shirt and suit jacket, he was greying at the temples but maintained a still-full head of hair. His face had the lines of a man who had witnessed the rougher side of life yet his eyes had a kindness that made all around him feel embraced in his gaze.

The crowd parted as one as the man and the reporter made their way by them. Many of them had read his articles in online blog posts, or anonymous letters in the New York press that had the hallmarks of his writing.

He followed behind Anderson as they made their way to the stage. Many reached to grasp his hand as he passed. When they got to the top of the stairs, the reporter waited until the tumultuous clapping had subsided before asking only one question.

"Sir, may I ask your name; will you tell these good people who you are?"

"Who am I?" he asked. "I'm Jean Valjean" And the crowd erupted. "I hope I haven't broken the heart of my daughter today", he said looking into the crowd for Cosette. "But for her safety I have protected my identity for many years. The actions of the banks, the failure of our government to rein them in, have forced me to come forward".

"This rally today is a beautiful display of peaceful action: so much kindness and gentleness in the park, so much belief in our world and democracy. And so many different kinds of people, all looking for a chance at the dream that America had promised them".

"It is a thing of beauty to see so many people in love with the ideal of democracy, so alive with its promise. That should be celebrated. It should be respected and admired.

"Each of us is of great value to the whole", he continued."Do not forget your greatness. Even when the world around you is telling you that you are nothing. You have a voice. You want a better life for your children and the people you love. You live in a democracy. You belong, and you deserve a world that is fair and equal. You have a right to take your place and be heard".

He raised his fist defiantly into the air. "We are the 99%. We are the 99%!" he said, and the crowd joined him in a deafening roar. "We are the 99%", they shouted in unison.

In the midst of this Valjean leaned into the microphone, "Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage, Les Amis!"

* * *

Off stage, Grantaire was trying to console Cosette, who was still in shock that her father, John Fauchelevent was in fact the infamous Jean Valjean. For years she had felt he was holding something back from her. He was a kind man who had adopted her when her own mother had died, but never in a million years had she dreamed he withheld a secret such as this from her.

She was both proud and angry. Proud he had done such good and helped so many, and angry that he had not felt she could be trusted with his secret. _Perhaps in time, I will know his reasons._ She quietly left Grantaire's side and went to wait for her father.

* * *

The crowd gave a thunderous round of applause for Les Amis, called to action by the speech of Valjean.

Enjolras leapt to the stage, giving a nod of acknowledgment to the older gentleman and shaking his hand. Valjean patted him encouragingly on the shoulder as he made his way off the stage.

"Thank You! Les Amis and myself are honoured to be here!", said Enjolras, "This movement transcends political affiliations. The 99% of us have paid a dear price so that 1% could become the wealthiest people in the world. We live with great injustices in the land of justice. We live with great lawlessness in the land of the law. We all know people who have been hurt by the big rip-off. We _all _know people who have lost their jobs or their homes. It's time for a change. Let's make this change happen NOW, let's give a voice to decency and fairness! It is time for us all to decide who we are!"

The crowd roared in approval, signs in the air alongside their pumping fists.

Enjolras turned to their drummer. "Marius, hit it".

Marius started rolling into the backbeat of The Who's, 'Won't Get Fooled Again':

"_We'll be fighting in the streets  
__With our children at our feet  
__And the morals that they worship will be gone  
__And the men who spurred us on  
__Sit in judegment of all wrong  
__They decide and the protester sings the song  
__  
I'll tip my hat to the new constitution  
__Take a bow for the new revolution  
__Smile and grin at the change all around me  
__Pick up my guitar and play  
__Just like yesterday  
__And I'll get on my knees and pray  
__We don't get fooled again__  
_

_Don't get fooled again  
__Change it had to come  
__We knew it all along  
__We were liberated from the fall that's all  
__But the world looks just the same  
__And history ain't changed  
__'Cause the banners, they all flown in the last war"  
__  
_

Enjolras was whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Moving from side to side of the stage, he stopped to lean into the crowd, crouching down as he sang the words out passionately.

By the end of the song, the crowd were in raptures.

Enjolras then introduced Courfeyrac to the microphone as the beats of the band began to move into a guitar based version of "I Need a Dollar". Courfeyrac's voice rang out across the park:

_I need a dollar dollar, a dollar is what I need  
hey hey, Well I need a dollar dollar, a dollar is what I need  
Well I don't know if I'm walking on solid ground  
Cause everything around me is falling down  
And all I want - is for someone - to help me_

_I had a job but the boss man let me go_  
_He said, I'm sorry but I won't be needing your help no more_  
_I said, Please mister boss man I need this job more than you know_  
_But he gave me my last pay check and he sent me on out the door_

The lyrics resonated with the crowd and they sang along, swaying to the rhythm.

* * *

Moving along the perimeters of the crowd, Montparnasse and his four cohorts kept a low profile, mirroring what other police officers were doing; simply watching from afar and keeping an eye on the crowd. Their eyes however were firmly on the band, and Eponine to the side of the stage. Montparnasse had chosen the moment of attack carefully and was patient as he anticipated the look of surprise on the group's face when they realised what was to come to pass. _Retribution. Pain._

* * *

Enjolras and the band were debuting their new song , 'Do You Hear the People?' as their finale' and it was this song that sent the audience into overdrive. The energy was intense; Enjolras was covered in sweat, an inspirational figure as he climbed on top of an enormous speaker, waving a flag and singing the words:

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Lost in the valley of the night  
__It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light  
__For the wretched of the earth  
__There is a flame that never dies  
__Even the darkest nights will end and the sun will rise__  
_

Eponine spotted Montparnasse just as the band were finishing their encore. The audience were cheering rapturously. To the side of the stage, CNN were waiting to speak with the band. Montparnasse was standing in the crowd to the front of the stage, in a relaxed position, looking much like other police officers ensuring the crowd did not get out of hand. From his standpoint at the side of the stage he looked like any other NYPD office. But Eponine had caught sight of his jet black hair protruding from under his cap and the skull tattoo on the side of his neck.

He was waiting for the perfect moment until Enjolras was facing him front on. He wanted not only to wound the singer but prevail upon him as much lethal force as he was able, then he would make Eponine pay. He wanted her to see her friends suffer before he went after her. Enjolras, elated from the euphoric set by the band and the energy coming from the crowd had not seen him. He stayed a moment longer on the stage than the others as his eyes searched to the right of the stage for Eponine. He wanted to share this moment with her.

Eponine was frantically trying to get his attention, but her small figure was lost behind the group of reporters in front of her. Grantaire was drawn at that instant across the stage to Eponine. She had a shocked expression on her face and was trying to yell something, pointing at the policeman at the front of the stage. Grantaire looked to where she was pointing and saw the police officer._ No, not a police officer - Montparnasse. _And he was holding a gun. _A gun pointing at Enjolras. _

Simultaneously from both sides of the stage, Eponine and Grantaire ran up to try and warn Enjolras, then threw themselves in front of him as two shots rang out.

From inside the tent where the rest of the band had retreated after their set, there came five more shots. And then Zuccotti Park descended into chaos.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** This was a difficult chapter to write, for many reasons. Everything happens at once, but I decided to split the events into different locations.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

Songs listened to:

**No Doubt** _"It's My Life"_ – Eponine

**One Republic** _"Apologize"_

**Madonna and Justin Timberlake**_ "4 Minutes"_

**Randy Crawford:** _"Street Life"_

* * *

**Chapter 17**

_**The Stage**_

The gun shots rang out, momentarily deafening and paralysing everyone present. Then panic had set in. The inspirational atmosphere had been shattered and everywhere, people were running for cover; screaming and ducking as they fled from the sound of the gunshots. In the distance the sounds of approaching sirens was in the air. The hope of the day was broken, and the dark clouds of anarchy and fear arrived.

And on the stage, three had fallen.

Eponine, Grantaire and Enjolras lay prone with blood pooling under them. A young ambulance officer stationed at the rally ran to the scene as soon as he ascertained it was safe to do so. There was so much blood he was unable to tell whose it was and who had sustained the worst injuries.

The dark headed man on the top was barely breathing. He'd been shot in the chest. Unwilling to move him but needing to get to the other victims, he rolled him on his side and laid him separately on the stage yelling to the crowd for someone to assist him. He then moved the young woman and gently laid her next to him. The young revolutionary he had seen speaking earlier was very still at the bottom. The medic was a follower of the movement and the sight of the injured saddened him greatly.

While the medic was attending them, he was joined by several others, including Marius and Jean Valjean. "Oh my God, no! Are they going to be alright?" yelled Marius to the young medic whose nametag simply said 'Joly'.

"I don't know. We can't move them further until I make an assessment. Can you check on the others in the tent?" He answered. "Oy! You there"…he said pointing to another young man. "We're going to need your help. What's your name?

"Bahorel", came the reply.

'Bahorel, do you know any first aid?"

"No, I'm a law student but I can help. Whatever you need me to do."

"Alright, good enough. Check on that guy. Stem any bleeding and check his airways" said Joly, motioning to Enjolras. Bahorel went and crouched down beside the man, as Joly frantically tried to ascertain the extent of Grantaire's injuries, which to his eyes looked to be very grave.

The man next to him was mumbling something, his eyes fluttering. He could barely make it out. "Eponine?…Grantaire?" he was saying.

"Is that _your_ name?"

"No…Enj..Enjolras"..he whispered hoarsely.

"Enjolras..it looks like your head has been grazed by a bullet but I think you're going to be okay ", Bahorel reassured him as he applied pressure to the wound. He reached into Joly's bag and pulled out some gauze and began to wrap it around Enjolras' head to slow the blood flow.

"You need to lay still..the medics will be over to you in a minute, ok? Just rest for now, it won't be long".

Two more emergency vehicles had arrived on the scene and medics made their way frantically though the crowd to the stage and tent.

"Here! Over here!" yelled Joly, "This man is going into cardiac arrest, and he's bleeding out!" he said, frantically he was gesturing to Grantaire.

Three paramedical officers ran to assist Joly, placing an oxygen mask on Grantaire's face as they began CPR procedures. Time was running out for the barman. As soon as they had his heartbeat stabilised they stretchered him carefully into the ambulance and started on their way to New York Downtown Hospital, sirens blazing.

Joly meanwhile had moved onto Eponine. Her brown hair hung in wet tendrils soaked with blood; hers or Grantaire's, Joly could not be certain. Her denim jacket and the white shirt emblazoned with a 'We Are the 99%' logo were saturated as well. She was conscious but only barely. She grunted in pain as he gently raised her shirt to get a clearer look at her wounds. She'd been shot through the shoulder. _A few centimetres lower,_ _and she'd be dead already_, thought the medic. Time was running short for her as well, her breathing was become more unsteady and as he placed an oxygen mask on her face he indicated to the waiting paramedics that she too, was ready to make her journey to the hospital.

* * *

_**The Tent**_

One of Montparnasse's associates, a large, burly man that went by the name of Gueulemer had gone into the tent disguised as a police officer. Punching Feuilly, who was nearest to the door, he pulled out his concealed handgun and fired two shots as a warning. He then pointed the gun at Courfeyrac who was protecting Gavroche.

"Give me the boy", he demanded. He turned his attention to Gavroche'. "Your mother wants to see you lad".

"She's no mother to me. The only mother I've got is Eponine, she's the one who cares for me, the others are just temporary".

"Leave the boy alone", said Courfeyrac, taking another step in front of his young charge.

Gueulemer pointed the gun at Courfeyrac. "Give me the boy or you'll be sorry. I'll _make you_ fucking sorry".

"You're _not _taking hi-".

In a flash the large man was on Courfeyrac, pistol whipping him about the head, beating him almost to unconsciousness. And even though he had no need, he raised his pistol and aimed it the bleeding young man on the ground, firing two shots at him, then another at Combeferre and Feuilly who were standing shocked in the changing area.

Picking up a screaming, struggling Gavroche', who was now also crying at the sight of his wounded friends, Gueulemer backed out of the tent, still holding the gun and menacing anyone that happened to look his way.

* * *

Lying prone on his side, in the position Bahorel has placed him for his safety while he went to get a medic; Enjolras was watching soundlessly and helplessly as Joly worked on Eponine. _She's breathing_, he thought, _and that is something_. From the corner of his vision, he could see movement from the tent. Backing out towards the rear of the stage was a large, burly man and he was carrying a kicking and screaming Gavroche'. He had a gun and he was alternating between pointing it any passers-by and the little boys' head.

Trying to get to his feet, Enjolras pulled his legs up under his body, only to be met with a searing pain in his head. Touching it briefly and feeling the hot stickiness of his blood, he pushed aside the haze of his injuries. Slowly he got to his knees and let himself slide off the side of the stage, making his way crouched down low to where they stood.

When Bahorel returned to assist him, Enjolras was gone.

* * *

In a side street not far from the park, two other members of the gang who called themselves Patron-Minette sat and waited. _They should be here by now_, thought the one in the driver's seat, known as Babet. NYPD vehicles were roaring past them. They decided it was time to start the car.

* * *

Valjean had seen Enjolras slip from the stage. Thinking the young man injured and confused, he sought him out in the crowd, only to watch him following a large man carrying a screaming child. _I have seen this child_, he thought. _He was by the stage after my speech._

Enjolras was bleeding again from the head, right through the bandage that had been placed there moments earlier. His movements were causing the blood to pump more quickly in his body. Struggling through the pain, he kept on.

Valjean tailed Enjolra,s just as Enjolras tailed the man. Gueulemer was making for an alley, drawing startled expressions from onlookers as he dragged the kicking, screaming boy through them.

Through the people he wove, parting them like the Red Sea. Turning from the park he picked up the pace, frantically trying to make an escape with the boy. Running into the next street, he knew he was not far from the others in the car. _Perhaps two streets more, _he thought.

"Stop! _Stop!_" screamed Enjolras ferociously, as he came up on the pair from behind. Gueulemer swung around viciously, grasping Gavroche by the scruff of his neck.

"Back off. Back off or I'll kill the boy", he said, pointing the gun at Gavroche'. He backed himself into the next alley.

"There's no need to do anything rash", Enjolras said calmly. He put a hand to his injury. "You can see I'm in no fit state to fight you, perhaps we can _reason_".

"He's going back to his mother, whether he wants to or not".

"Does she think he will stay? He has escaped from many homes, no? No, he will not stay with her. I have seen the bruises and marks of his sister. He will _not_ stay", he said nodding at Gavroche, as he took a step forward towards them.

"Mind your business. It's not your _fucking_ business", Gueulemer spat.

From behind them came Valjean. "It is everyone's business. The welfare of our young people, and this young man. I suggest you do as he says", gesturing to Enjolras. "This does not have to end badly".

Footsteps echoed into the alley. Six NYPD officers came bounding around the corner to the standoff.

"Put your hands in the air!" demanded the senior officer, Captain Javert. "Release the boy!"

Cornered and desperate, the alley feeling like it was closing in on him, Gueulemer again threatened Gavroche', clumsily aiming the gun at his chest. Gavroche' wriggled in his arms and the gun slipped out of his captors grasp, the metal echoing on the ground as it fell.

Gavroche', like his sister, was no fool. He seized his opportunity and bit Gueulemer's hand, causing him to the boy. Before he could be reclaimed, Enjolras ran to him and picked him up, kicking the gun yet further away and taking Gavroche' to safety behind the wall of the police officers.

Valjean also retreated, backing himself slowly behind the cordon of officers now cutting off any chance of escape for the man cornered in front of them.

"Show me your hands!" yelled Javert, motioning for his officers to move forward.

Gueulemer knew a long sentence awaited him in jail. He had received a shorter sentence than Thenardier' but he was still on parole. He would be charged with abduction, carrying a concealed weapon, and a multitude of other crimes he'd committed since leaving the confines of his cell. He shuddered at the thought of how long his sentence for today would be.

_No, I'm not going back to jail. _

Exaggeratedly, he reached for the blade in his back pocket, making sure the officers saw his every move.

"He's reaching!" yelled an officer. All six now had their guns drawn.

Gueulemer advanced forward, ignoring the warnings echoing down the alley. "Put the weapon down! This is your _last_ warning!" advised Javert.

The large man took a running leap forward menacingly towards the sergeant closest to him. He didn't have time to take one more step. Bullets rang through the enclosed street. Gueulemer fell, his body pierced by five bullets. He was dead before he hit the ground, his hand twitching as his nerves died.

"Look away little Gavroche', said Enjolras, hugging the boy to his leg. "Let's go to the hospital alright? We'll have you checked over and see how the others are doing, Valjean, are you coming?_". Please, let them be alive._

"Valjean! I'm not done with you" said Javert, approaching. "You are a hard man to track down. We need to talk to you both about what happened today and _your _online activities."

"Am I under arrest?"

"Not yet, sir, no."

"I will see the injured at the hospital then we will come to the precinct to make a statement. You can question me then", he said, unafraid.

"I'll send an officer to the hospital with you. We wouldn't want you to get lost now – _would we_?"

"No".

"Valjean?" said Enjolras, "We have to go _now_, I believe they are at Downtown Hospital".

* * *

In the streets, Montparnasse and three of his cohorts were still on the loose.

* * *

In the hospital, two were about to take their last breaths and another teetered on the edge of life.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** This is my most difficult chapter. Particularly as I was listening to the music listed below. Tears fell on the keyboard, I love these characters so. Love finds us in different forms; friendship, companionship, substitute parents, and lovers to name but a few. When one of these is broken by fate, its effects echo to many…like a ripple on a pond.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

Songs listened to:

**Queen:** _"Who Wants to Live Forever?'_

_**U2:**__ "Stuck in a Moment (You Can't Get Out Of)_

_**Dido: **__"Life for Rent"_

* * *

**Chapter 18**

_There's no time for us  
__There's no place for us  
__What is this thing that builds our dreams,  
__yet slips away from us__  
_

_Who wants to live forever?  
__Who wants to live forever?  
__There's no chance for us  
__It's all decided for us  
__This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us__  
_

_ - Queen_

The clouds had gathered over the city and a light rain was beginning to fall as Valjean, Enjolras and Gavroche' hurriedly made their way into Downtown Hospital. The young boy held tightly onto Enjolras' hand as they were escorted by one of Javert's sergeants. Enjolras' shirt was now covered in his own blood; the adrenalin from the scene in the alley had forced his heart to pump harder.

Their heels click-clacked along the white floor as they approached the waiting room in the ER. They saw the huddled group of Marius, Cosette and Jehan in the corner, the three of them were holding hands. They were not speaking, and looked very small in the crowded room, flooded in fluorescence. As they got closer, they could see that all of them had been crying.

"Child, what is the matter? What has happened" asked Valjean.

"Oh Papa", cried Cosette, running to hug her father. "Papa..Courfeyrac…Courfeyrac is dead, and Grantaire…oh Grantaire…". She couldn't go on, dissolving into heaving sobs in her father's arms.

"Jehan…you must tell us," implored Enjolras.

"'Courf tried to stop them… he tried to stop one of the gang taking Gav'. He wouldn't back down Enj, you _know_ how he is. And they took Gav _anyway_. They had no need, no need at all to shoot him. But they did. He was shot in the head and heart. He was DOA, he … he had no chance", said Jehan before breaking down into tears.

Enjolras felt Gavroche's hand tighten on his as the boy began sobbing. Despite his own injuries, Enjolras picked the boy up and cradled him into this shoulder. "Gavroche' we must be strong, I will get you through this, alright?" The boy nodded but continued holding on tightly.

"And where are "Ferre, and Feuilly? Where are Eponine and Grantaire?" Enjolras' voice was getting louder, almost shouting.

"Ferre' and Feuilly are alright. They're being treated for shock. Eponine is in surgery. Enjolras, the surgeon spoke to us briefly – she's touch and go. She was hit in the shoulder but she has internal bleeding. We'll know more once they come out of theatre, which will be at least another hour or two".

Enjolras face stiffened. He felt Gavroche sobbing into his neck. _No, she cannot leave us. Not now_. He swallowed his emotions. "And what of Grantaire?"

"Are you his family?" said a voice behind them. A tall, slightly balding man, whom Enjolras assumed to be a surgeon, had come to speak with them. Cosette, Marius and Jehan rose from their seats, and gathered around the man, along with Valjean.

"We are his friends, said Marius. "No, w_e_ are his family" he said drawing himself up to his full height as if daring the man to deny them the information.

It was hospital policy not to allow anyone other than direct family to see patients or to release details but time was not on their side and the doctor could see he would not win any battle with this group today. Heartbroken but united they stood in front of him, waiting.

"I'm so very sorry, but your friend Grantaire has suffered greatly from two bullet wounds. The first one went straight through his heart. In fact it is also the same bullet which has injured your friend...Eponine I believe her name is? The second bullet damaged several internal organs. We tried to stem the bleeding but he is still haemorrhaging. The best we can do is to make him comfortable, which is what we have done. Perhaps you would like to speak with him…before? He does not have long. Again, I'm terribly sorry. We did everything we could. We've moved him to a quiet room on the second floor. I can get somebody to escort you there" he finished gently.

One by one each of the group made their way in, spending some time with the affable barman. Trying to contain their own grief and the heaviness in their hearts, they reminisced with him…even finding time for a bad joke or two. It was only on the departure from his room did they allow their tears to flow and the grief to fill their blood.

When it came time for Enjolras to see him, Valjean took Gavroche' from him, sitting down with the boy to read him a book, knowing his mind was elsewhere.

* * *

Grantaire's room was silent, aside from the sound of his tortured breathing. There was an unmistakeable rattle in the barman's chest. The staff had placed him in the best room possible, with a large window looking down onto the busy street below, and a view of the fall sky.

"What is happening at the window Enjolras? Can you describe it for me?" he whispered, acknowledging his presence.

"Of course. People are going on about their lives. I see children with parents, people getting on a bus, going about their day. Friends…friends getting coffee", he said roughly looking down at his hands.

"I wonder if I will be remembered fondly, "said Grantaire. Do you think? The boozehound of the Village? Shall _that_ be my epitaph? It's funny isn't it?" Enjolras turned to look at him as he continued. "How life goes on regardless of what happens _here_".

Enjolras managed a grim smile, "It is the way of things. The rain is easing".

He laughed grimly. "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now. Will you pass me my flask Enjolras?", he motioned to his jacket with his eyes.

"You want your hip flask, _now_?"

"My father gave it to me, one of the only things he has ever given me. It has been one of my trusty friends for a very long time". He was not without humour, even in his final moments. "Will you read the inscription to me?" Enjolras turned the pewter flask over and recited the words.

"_The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.– Victor Hugo"_, he said softly.

Enjolras placed the flask on his chest, where Grantaire held onto it tightly. He was fading, his eyes starting to lose their focus. "Grantaire you are full of surprises. I wouldn't have picked you for a fan of the classics".

"You have many friends; that room full of people out there, they are your friends. I…_I_ am your friend. You are not alone", he continued.

Grantaire's breath was laboured now, his pallor pale and fading fast.

Enjolras grasped his hand, "Grantaire, do you permit it?"

Grantaire nodded, closing his eyes and taking his final breath. Outside the rain began to fall again. Inside the now quiet room, a single, solitary tear made its way down the cheek of the marble frontman.

* * *

When he returned to the others - who now included Feuilly and Combeferre - waiting tearfully outside the room, Enjolras looked at them all one by one, then simply said, "He's gone".

All pretence of composure disappeared; Enjolras stood back as the others collapsed into their grief. Grief for Courfeyrac, their steady centre, notorious flirt and true believer. And the affable barman, the never sober Grantaire, believer in nothing except the belief of one man, who would never serve another drink, and who would never again fill their ears with his easy laugh.

_I must be strong. I will grieve later. They need me. Do not forget the one who lives. There is one who lives still._

* * *

Eponine had the vague sensation of being pulled by her centre, to a destination she knew not. She could hear voices calling to her; _Let go Eponine, let the pain be over_. In the vast darkness she could make out a pinpoint of light. She could feel her body, disassociated as it was, being urged on in a blinding rush towards it.

Gradually the darkness around her gave way to scenes from her childhood.. A garden filled with flowers. _I was happy here once._ And a birdhouse that a family friend had made for her. _I'm five years old_, she thought.

Now, a baby cried. Looking down she found herself holding an infant Gavroche'. She could feel herself smiling. _Such a happy baby_. One of her rare experiences of pure love. He was her brother and the two were bound together, she was his protector; it was as simple as that. _I could stay here forever_. _Here, in these memories I am truly happy._

She was aware now of delicate and shifting hues of colours; a red jacket, a glimpse of blonde hair, the taste of coffee. Empowering her soul, she struggled to reach this memory, this memory that wanted her to return, away from this place. She touched a hand to her lips, feeling a kiss. _Extraordinary._ The word echoed in the enclosing darkness_. Did someone think this of me once?_ she mused.

She had no time to meditate on it further; a magnetic force seemingly located in her centre, was pulling her backwards away from the light. For a millisecond other memories came flooding in, gunshots, someone had fallen. _Was it her?_ Did I die? No. Deep in the recesses of her mind she knew; I'm alive – and life is pain. And then the blackness engulfed her once again.

* * *

"She's back. I've got a beat" said the surgeon.

"I thought we'd lost her", said his colleague.

"It was close. She's tiny but she's a fighter. Look at that heartbeat now, it's coming in strong." He spoke louder now, addressing the room of nurses and assisting doctors. "Alright people, let's get this young lady stabilised, it's time to close her up".

* * *

"_Even in its darkest passages, the heart is unconquerable. It is important that the body survives, but it is more meaningful that the human spirit prevails." _

― _Dave Pelzer, A Child Called "It"_

* * *

When the head surgeon came out to address the assembled group, he carried with him good news. He knew they had lost others, of the scene in Zuccotti Park and the chaos in the alley. He prayed this would give these forlorn souls a small spark of hope.

They turned to him as one, fearing the worst, their hearts already broken in a million pieces. The young man nearest to him, in dire need of attention himself for a wound to his head, seemed to be willing him to say something positive, his desperation was palpable.

"Ms Eponine is going to be alright. We had quite a battle in there. For a while it seemed she may not pull through, but – "

"She lives?" said the very same young man. "Eponine is alive?", he asked, swallowing hard.

"Yes, very much so. She is small of body, but strong of heart. Our team is just finishing now and soon she'll be in recovery. You'll be able to see her in one or two hours", he finished.

_Small of body but strong of heart_, Enjolras repeated to himself. _Yes, that's Eponine._

_She lives._


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N**: I got a lot of feedback via messages re the last chapter. It was very sad for me to have to lose Grantaire and Courfeyrac. With regards to the piece with Grantaire and Enjolras, while not sticking to canon, I do like to reference it when I can, bringing things around in a circle, if you will. And to remind myself of the glorious text that I'm taking my inspiration from. It's not my intention to ignite and E/E vs E/R conversation. It is what it is. What has happened to Eponine? Can the tragedy of the events at Zuccotti be overcome? Will Les Amis ever play again? And what of the fledgling romance between Enjolras and Eponine? Let's find out.

I've seen a few films about PTA which can also be called ASD (Acute Stress Disorder) and also spoke to a friend of mine who suffered it himself. The symptoms of the character suffering it are concurrent with that.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Excerpt from 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee is of course her property. No copyright infringement intended.

Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading! And please give feedback

**Songs listened to:**

**Adele:** "Chasing Pavements" (the duet with Paul Weller on YouTube) for Eponine and Enjolras.

**Billy Joel:** "She's Got A Way"

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Eponine was underwater. Underwater in a pool of darkest blue. It seemed to take all her strength but she was slowly rising towards the surface. There, she could hear voices but they were unclear, as if muffled by the water.

_I'm here_, she said to the voices. _I'm here. Why can't I open my eyes?_

She could hear the steady beeping of the monitors and the low mumble of voices in her room. Every so often an unseen nurse would tell her that she was going to take her blood pressure or give her an injection. She could feel the tourniquet tightening or feel the needle pricking her arm. It was a bewildering, alien sensation; had the nurses not given their warning into her apparently deaf ears, Eponine was sure it would have been frightening.

Using every ounce of her available strength she opened her eyes as far as she was able. The light was blinding and painful. Once her eyes had adjusted, through the barely opened slits she could make out the movement of a white uniform. A nurse? She tried to reach her arm out to the woman but found she was unable to do so. There was a tightening in the muscles of her chest and shoulder area. _What happened to me?_

Suddenly the white uniform was right beside the bed.

"Eponine? Eponine, I'm Sally, your nurse. Can you hear me?"

Eponine focused her eyes on the gentle face towering over head and gingerly nodded her head.

"Honey, can you speak? Do you need some water?"

"Yes please", she whispered hoarsely, suddenly realising how parched she was_. What happened to me?_

Sally helped her sit up slowly in the bed, the crisp sheets crinkling slightly under her weight.

She felt cotton mouthed and suddenly desperate for a drink. When Sally returned with the water it was all she could do not to grab the paper cup from her hand.

"Take it easy, just take a sip at a time", advised the nurse.

"What-What happened to me?" asked Eponine.

"You don't remember?" said Sally, suddenly frowning.

"I remember..um..I remember lots of noise, but I can't see any images in my mind."

"Okay, now take your time. Eponine, what's the last thing you can recall clearly?"

Eponine pursed her lips, pulling the sheets further up her body. "I remember being at the club, The Musain. I had an argument with someone, Enjolras? And then..I remember being in the alleys giving out sandwiches".

"You don't remember Zuccotti Park?"

Eponine looked at her quizzically. "No. I mean, the rally? That's not for four days yet".

Sally took a step back from her, looking towards the door.

"Eponine, I'm just going to go find your doctor, alright? I won't be long".

Eponine shrugged. "Alright".

* * *

Enjolras, Marius, Cosette, Jehan, Combeferre, Feuilly, Gavroche' and Valjean were gathered in the waiting room. Enjolras had finally taken himself to the ER in the time they had been waiting. His head wound had required several stitches, but he looked much better and his hair had been cleaned by a young nurse that had taken a fancy to the good looking young man.

They saw Eponine's nurse walking quickly past them with a very concerned look on her face. During the time she'd been in recovery they had managed to contact both Grantaire and Courfeyrac's families. Unfortunately Grantaire's family already knew what had happened. The shooting in Zuccotti Park had been on CNN and all the news networks since it took place. Over and over again they'd had to witness his shooting.

Enjolras was the one who called Courfeyrac's family. He was one of two boys in the family, and it was his older brother Henre' who took the call. Distraught but stoic he told Enjolras he'd let the rest of his family know. In the short space of an hour, both families had decided that the boys should be buried together, a week from now at the Calvary Cemetery in Queens. Grantaire was never an official member of Les Amis, but no-one wanted the barman to be alone, even in death.

When Sally, Eponine's nurse, returned she was with the surgeon that had operated on her, Dr Houseman. After spending a good twenty minutes with their patient, he came out to speak to the waiting group, rubbing his chin.

"Do we have a member of Eponine's family here? ", he asked, looking around at the anxious faces.

Gavroche' stepped forward. "I'm her brother".

"Oh, do we have anyone else? Her mother, her fath- ?"

"She's got no other relatives mate, I'm it", said Gavroche' tersely.

Enjolras stepped forward. 'Gav let me handle this, alright?". He turned to the doctor. "Effectively, Gavroche is correct. Eponine is estranged from her mother, and her father may be involved in this incident. Is it possible for you to speak with _us_? We are her closest friends, and of course Gavroche is her next of kin".

"Alright. If you'd all like to have a seat", said the doctor. "I'm going to put things as plainly as I can. Eponine has suffered a very severe shock both to her mind and her body. She will recover in time from the wounds to her body. But on speaking with Eponine just now, it seems she has Post Traumatic Amnesia. She has no memory of what happened to her, no memory of the shooting and no recollection of what has happened to your two other friends, I'm afraid". He took a moment, looking around at the worried faces, letting them absorb his words.

"Now, before you start worrying too much, let me tell you that it's not out of the ordinary to suffer from some temporary PTA after such an event. Hopefully, this is very short term for Eponine, and she'll soon be able to get on with her life. In the meantime, it's wise not to upset her, so I'd ask you not to push her to remember, nor mention the deaths of your friends. I know that might seem harsh, but she needs to do this on her own. Any further trauma will make her recovery longer, ok?

They all nodded silently in agreement.

"How far back _does _she remember?" asked Enjolras.

"She recalls having an argument at The Musain, and she said something about feeding the homeless in an alley?" replied the doctor.

"That's four days ago!" said Feuilly.

_She does not remember us_, thought Enjolras. _She does not remember my lips on hers. She doesn't know about Grantaire and 'Courf._

"Alright", replied the doctor to Feuilly, "At least we know what time frame we're working with. But even so, we must be very gentle with Eponine right now. When the memories _do _come back, they will likely be very painful. And of course she doesn't yet know that your other friends didn't make it".

_And she doesn't remember what I said to her in Washington Park, _thought Enjolras, blinking hard to erase the thought. He looked hard at the ground_. I am not fated for love. It's a fool's game. _Could the others hear how heavy his heart was thumping?

"Can I see her now?", asked Gavroche'.

"Yes, of course, but you must be very careful what you say to her young man. Sally will take you in" he said, nodding to the nurse.

"He thinks I'm an idiot, does he?" Gavroche' said to Sally as he walked over to the room his sister was in.

"Come now, here she is," said Sally, opening the door to find Eponine sitting up and trying to look at the bandage on her shoulder.

They came in alternately. When Marius came in with Cosette, Eponine felt a jolt but not as sharp as she might have expected. In fact, it just barely touched her heart. _Who is this girl? When had Marius met her?_ _Why don't I care?_ She'd noticed before that Jehan, Combeferre and Feuilly were guarded in the way they spoke to her. _What have I done to upset them? _She'd asked all of them several times what had happened to her but all they'd say is that her doctor would speak with her later.

* * *

Finally when she'd thought all her visitors had come, she saw Enjolras standing by the door. _Oh great! What's __**he**__ doing here?_

"Hello Eponine", he said, leaning against the door frame.

"Enjolras".

"How are you feeling?" he enquired. _I want to hold her in my arms and tell her everything's alright._

"Fine, thank you", she replied. She couldn't understand why he was here. They'd just had an argument, hadn't they? _He probably just came with the others and was being polite_, she reasoned. Still, something in his manner unsettled her.

"Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?" he asked, walking over before she had time to answer and sitting down in her visitors chair.

"Uh..no. I mean I guess not. Sorry, I mean its fine", she replied.

"Can I get you something? Would you like some water? Are you in pain?"

"I'm ok, thanks. Enjolras can I ask you something?"

"Of course" he said. _Ask me to hold you and I will gladly do it._

"Why are you here? I mean, I'm thankful and everything but we're not exactly best mates are we? You just told me yesterday that I was basically a pest to Les Amis, yes?"

He stood up, injured at the rebuke. "I… I just wanted to see how you were. That's all".

She softened at that. "I'm sorry. Please stay. I just..everything is very blurry. No-one will tell me exactly what happened. Why do I feel like something is missing?" she said just as Dr Houseman came into the room, doing his rounds.

Enjolras looked at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow. The doctor nodded.

"Eponine", said Dr Houseman, "You've had some trauma which I'm sure you're aware of, and you seem to have some memory loss - around four of five days worth of it. It's called Post Trauma Amnesia or Acute Stress Disorder. And we think it might be better for the time being if you just relax and try and let the memories come to _you._ In the next few days, if it's not coming naturally, we'll start to fill in the blanks, alright?"

"Four days? I'm missing all that time? Has the rally come? "Her voice was rising, panicked and the monitor beside her started going off loudly.

"Eponine, you must relax. For now _please_ just concentrate on getting well" said the doctor.

"Fine. I don't know how I'm supposed to do that exactly but I'll try. But I'm going to go crazy in here. Why is there no television in my room?" she asked suddenly noticing its absence.

"Oh, we try not to have too much outside technology on this ward" he replied, hesitantly. "And now if you'll excuse me, I must get to the rest of my rounds. I'll see you in the morning Eponine. Sally is on the ward and will be in to check on you".

"Ok, thank you", she answered. _Thanks for nothing. __What __is going on?_

"Would you like me to read to you, Eponine?", asked Enjolras, his voice breaking into her thoughts." I took the liberty of picking up some books from the hospital bookstore that you might like". He opened a cloth bag with a large pile of books in it.

"What ones do you have there?" she asked suddenly interested.

"Well, let's see, there's '_Dirt; The Motley Crue Biography'_, something called '_Fifty Shades of Grey'_ which the woman in the shop was _very_ enthused about. 'To Kill a Mockingbird', and last but not least, _'Tender is the Night'_ by Fitzgerald".

"First of all, do you realise you've bought me mommy porn, Enj?" she laughed at that, sending a searing pain to her chest and shoulder. She winced and he was out of his seat like a shot to her side.

"Are you alright?" he said towering over the bed. _Let me take her pain._

"Enjolras", she said firmly, not unaware of his closeness, "I'm fine. I just need to be a bit more..serious..like you". He sat down in his seat again slowly, waiting for her reply on her choice of book.

"Oh,_ 'To Kill a Mockingbird'_? I always loved that book", she said.

"A fine choice, let's begin then", he replied.

Enjolras read to her quietly for the next hour or so, his voice the only sound aside from the beeping of the monitors behind Eponine. His voice was rich and he kept an even pace, enlivening the story with little inflections here and there. It had been a long time since Eponine had been read to, and even though there was still something unsettled between them, she found it to be soothing;

_Jem decided there was no point in quibbling, and he was silent. When Atticus went inside the house to retrieve a file he had forgotten to take to work that morning, Jem finally realised that he had been done in by the oldest lawyer's trick on record. He waited a respectful distance from the front steps, watched Atticus leave the house and walk toward town. When Atticus was out of earshot Jem yelled after him: 'I thought I wanted to be a lawyer, but I ain't so sure now!"_

Something about that reminded Enjolras of his relationship with his own father. Ruefully, he closed the book, slotting in a book mark so as not to lose the page. Eponine was soundly asleep, and had been for more than five minutes, but he'd kept reading anyway, unwilling to leave her side.

He finally decided it was time to go and he went over to place the book on the drawers next to her bed. Standing back and looking at her for a moment, he leaned in, smelling her hair before placing a kiss on her head.

Turning to leave, he found Eponine's nurse at the door watching him.

"Good Night Sally. I'll see you tomorrow", he said, stiffening his back.

_He's in love with her. _"Goodnight", she replied.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: ** Thank you to all the new followers of this story, and to the feedback from those that have been following from the beginning. On we go.  
**  
**

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

**Coldplay:** "The Scientist"

_Come up to meet you  
__Tell you I'm sorry  
__You don't know how lovely you are  
__I had to find you  
__Tell you I need you  
__Tell you I set you apart_

___Tell me your secrets  
__And ask me your questions  
__Oh let's go back to the start  
__Running in circles; coming up tails  
__Heads on a silence apart__  
_

- _Coldplay, 'The Scientist'_

* * *

The next morning Enjolras found himself yet again by Eponine's bedside. He'd gotten there so early that she was still sleeping, which had given him time to reflect. Last night upon leaving he'd scolded himself for sitting and reading with her. It wasn't fair; not to Eponine and not to himself. She didn't understand his connection to her – the last words they'd exchanged as far as she knew were in anger. And for him the agony was almost intolerable. Sitting by her bedside he'd hoped that the next word he said to her, or the next look between them her would bring it all back. But bringing back _them_ would also bring back the pain of what had happened at the rally. It was a Catch-22 and he knew it but could not keep himself away.

_I was in the area anyway. It doesn't hurt to keep her company_. Even as the thought came to him he knew it was a lie. He had been nowhere near the hospital. He'd stayed at Combeferre's apartment, but he'd found himself walking to get coffee blocks away, then on a train to the hospital. He just wanted to be near her.

There were things he had not shared with the others; the medics thought he too was suffering from shock and had asked him to see their resident psychologist – an offer he had refused. Grantaire and Eponine had saved his life, and now Grantaire was dead, 'Courf too, and Eponine was lying in a bed with no recollection of the event. The guilt he felt weighed him down in every step he took. No-one had asked if he was alright, they'd just assumed Enjolras would carry on as he always had, with his set jaw and stoic approach to life.

The loss of Grantaire and Courfeyrac had shaken him to his core. Courfeyrac was one of his closest friends and he'd never told him that, not in all the years he'd known him. And now it was too late. His thoughts turned to Grantaire, whose feelings had gone unacknowledged until the very end. _Life is short and none of us may know the hour of our death_, he thought. What use was being made of stone and impenetrable? The other side of his psyche argued back; he'd closed himself off to so many things and when he finally opened himself to it, he had been punished for it. He cursed himself for being aware of his feelings, at the same time cursing for not doing it sooner.

He shook the newspaper in his lap in frustration_. I won't come tomorrow. I can't. For both of us, it's best, _he thought as he looked over to her still sleeping form.

* * *

Eponine was dreaming. Again the dark was all encompassing. Flashing scenes invaded the blackness sporadically; Grantaire serving drinks at The Musain, eating cookie dough with Gavroche' at her apartment, the waiting room at Common Ground, scouring her favourite record shop for second hand vinyl records. The images were warm and comforting.

In an instant the images got darker, an ominous wisp at the edge of her mind. She could feel herself clenching her jaw. _It's not real_. The visions came again regardless; she was sinking in quicksand; then the flash of a camera as the marks of her father's beatings were recorded. _Wake up Eponine_, a distant voice called to her. She could see Montparnasse's skull tattoo which suddenly came alive, snarling at her. Panic was rising in her. She could feel it in her body. She suddenly felt a weight in her chest and she was thrown back onto the ground with a thud. _I need to open my eyes. Somebody help me!_

"Wake up Eponine. Eponine wake up!" said Enjolras, standing by her bed, frantically trying to get through to her. She was thrashing side to side in her sheets, obviously caught in the grasp of a bad dream.

"Sally!" he called out to the nurse's desk. The nurse came running into the room, and quickly assessing the situation she turned to Enjolras. "I know this is hard, but she has to come out of it on her own. Her mind is resting but also trying to fit pieces of the puzzle back together. Some of it is going to be unpleasant – for her and for you". She patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.

Eponine's jagged breathing was slowing and after a moment she opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she said vaguely, trying to focus.

"Downtown Hospital, Eponine" said Sally.

"Oh, oh yes - yes I remember, of course" replied Eponine. She looked at her bed, the sheets were a mess and she could feel that her body was covered in sweat. "Wow, I guess I had a bad dream, huh?" she asked Sally. It was then she saw Enjolras behind the nurse, again sitting in her visitor's chair and eyeing her worriedly.

"Do you remember what you were dreaming about?" asked Sally.

"No, not really. But I'm guessing it wasn't something good".

"Well now, you just take it easy honey, and call me if you need anything alright? I left a notepad by your bed in case you want to write anything down that you remember, ok?" said the nurse.

"Thank you", replied Eponine as Sally exited the room, leaving her alone with Enjolras.

"God I hope you didn't see all…whatever that was that just happened. What time is it anyway?" she said to him.

He looked at his watch. "Just coming up to eight o'clock". He looked up to find her watching him, searching his face for something.

"And how long have you been here for?" she asked softly not taking her eyes away from his.

"Not long..about an hour or so" he replied, before looking back down at his newspaper.

"And you're not going to tell me why, are you?

"I told you, I was just worried about you, and I get my coffee not far from here, so…" he trailed off.

'So you thought you'd just sit here for a while reading your newspaper?", she persisted.

"Yes. The others will be here soon. We've set up a roster of sorts to keep you company".

"I see. And when were _you_ supposed to come in, on this roster?"

_She's like a detective with a juicy lead._ "This afternoon, around four", he replied.

Eponine let that sit with her a moment. A feeling danced at the edges of her mind then was lost in a blur. It was replaced by her suddenly becoming aware of the state she must be in visually. She was clothed only in a hospital gown, and her hair felt like it hadn't been brushed in a year, and her face must be quite a sight.

"God, I must look awful", she said quietly. She touched a hand to her face, then her hair self-consciously. Enjolras looked at her for a moment, holding her gaze.

"You're fine. Sally came in last night while you were sleeping, and cleaned up your face. Your hair on the other hand…", he managed a small smile.

"Could you check if Sally is at the desk Enjolras? I'd like to go to the bathroom and see for myself". She sat up further in the bed, and swung her legs over the side before giving a little hop onto the floor. She was stiffer than she'd anticipated after lying in bed all that time. Her legs almost gave way underneath her.

"I can help you", he said getting out of the chair and offering his hand. Hesitantly she took it, and a current of electricity ran through her as their hands joined. She glanced at him; if he had felt it too he gave no sign. He was looking at the floor with great interest. Together they walked the few feet, her leaning into him slightly for support. The light scent of her lingered on him; vanilla and gardenia_. This is a slow death, _he thought.

"I've got it from here" she said, stopping at the door, giving him a reassuring smile. Making her way over to the mirror, she looked at her face. _Who is that girl? What happened to me?_ She could see a sadness in her eyes that she was sure had not been there previously. _Not since I left the Thenardier's._

"Good Morning Eponine", said a bright voice at the door. Sally was standing at the door with a breakfast tray. Behind her, Gavroche' was straining to see into the room, alongside Valjean and Combeferre.

"Hey Enj. What are you doing here?", asked Gavroche'.

"He was just nearby, getting coffee", shot back Eponine quickly. Enjolras, Valjean and Combeferre looked at her. _Why did I do that?_

"Uh, yes. I was. And now, I'll be going. It seems you have some new company". He nodded her way.

"Hey, you're supposed to be back here this afternoon, right?" said Combeferre.

"If time permits, yes. Get well soon Eponine" he said, turning on his heel and starting up the hall. Once outside the room he took a deep breath and exhaled. Being so close to Eponine yet feeling so far away was harder than he had imagined.

* * *

"Enjolras! Enjolras!". He turned to find Valjean running to catch up with him.

"Might I have a word?" he asked.

"Of course". Side by side they walked into the fall sunshine outside the hospital.

"I'm not certain how to broach this with you, so I'll be short. Were you thinking of continuing on with Les Amis?'

Enjolras stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Valjean. "It's a bit soon for this conversation, don't you agree?" he asked firmly.

"Enjolras, I understand what you must be going through, but the movement still needs you".

Enjolras exploded, the tension propelled from his body in his words, "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH! Courfeyrac and Grantaire are _dead_ because of me, and Eponine has absolutely no idea what transpired! I admire you Valjean, but my friends are not even in the ground yet".

Valjean stepped back from him, trying to find the right words to calm him, "I meant no disrespect. Please you must know this. The movement is everywhere right now, all over the media. Perhaps once the funerals have taken place, we might find a common ground to move forward. Enjolras you are a _very _good leader. People will follow you still. I only ask you to reconsider, when the time is right", he said gently. "I'm very sorry if I caused offence".

Valjean patted him on the shoulder, then turned and walked back into the hospital.

Enjolras squinted at the bright sunshine. He'd lied in Eponine's room. He had no fixed agenda today. He was not busy. He had nowhere to be and no one to see. Aimlessly he began wandering down the street. He tried to let the busy sidewalks of New York dilute his thoughts. They were running an endless track inside his head. The bustling crowd of peak hour jostled him, and for an hour he forgot himself. He let the crowded humanity comfort him, feeling part of the morning rat-race.

When he finally stopped for a moment, he found his feet had led him to the Financial District. He was across the road from Zuccotti Park.

He stood silently, hands in pockets, looking at the place where the stage had been. Where his friends had been and had fallen. He looked at the buildings behind the park, and then to the cloudless blue sky.

Seeking answers, he wished the universe would show him a sign. _What am I to do?_

And then an answer came to him in his own voice. _Go on. I must find the strength to go on. It will not be for nothing._


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N**: In this chapter we find both our main characters going through their own kind of therapy. How do you come back from such an epic tragedy? Can you?

Am I updating too quickly? I can feel this story taking on a life of it's own. I hope I'm not rushing everyone. Let me know.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Chapter 21**

_Well I never pray  
__But tonight I'm on my knees yeah  
__I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah  
__I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now  
__But the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me now  
_'_Cause it's a bitter sweet symphony this life, yeah__  
_

_ - Bitter Sweet Symphony, The Verve_

The afternoon came quickly at Downtown Hospital. Eponine had a steady stream of visitors to her room that kept her mind occupied and though Sally and Dr Houseman were mindful of allowing her to rest, it was hard to keep the group away. Gavroche', usually so tough, took great delight in sitting on her bed and helping her brush out her hair. Jehan had brought her a large bouquet of flowers which he was happy to report were not stolen from someone's garden, and a book of collected poems by Robert Frost. Combeferre had come to see her as well, yet he had hung back, and an air of melancholy gathered about him as he sat in the visitor's chair.

Looking at him, Eponine let her mind wander to two absences. She had not seen Grantaire nor Courfeyrac in two days. Grantaire was probably working a one-man show at The Musain, she thought guiltily. Or perhaps sleeping off a hangover? She checked her phone but he had not left any messages. And Courfeyrac also had not been in to see her. This she found to be most odd. He usually tagged along with either Enjolras or Combeferre' as a part of their revolutionary trinity. Perhaps he'd found a new lady friend, she thought.

Before she had time to delve into it any further she looked up to find Sally and Dr Houseman at her door. Eponine watched as Dr Houseman helped Sally hang a large corkboard on her wall.

"Eponine", said Dr Houseman, "This is what we call a reorientation board. It's used to assist people like you that are suffering from memory loss. What we've asked your friends to do is to bring in some personal items, photos, pictures, music..anything that might be helpful to you; to help stimulate your mind to remember. And if you feel confused, this board might help to centre you, ok?"

Eponine nodded and saw that Sally was now putting up some photos on the board. She recognised these photos to be from Jehan. Ever the romantic, he insisted on keeping a visual memory of Les Amis; There was a photo of the band rehearsing at The Musain –in the background she could see both herself and Grantaire at the bar; a dynamic photo of Enjolras and Courfeyrac caught in concert and sweating under a spotlight. She suddenly realised then that Enjolras had not come back to see her. She looked over to her visitors chair; she could almost see him there, watching her with that bemused expression he favoured so. She had a slight feeling of disappointment that 'Ferre sat there instead and could not fathom why.

Turning back she stifled a giggle; Dr Houseman was putting up one of her favourite photos; of herself and Gavroche at Common Ground, participating in a face painting exercise. They were both made up to look like circus clowns, with face paint and wigs and their grins were infectious. She felt a lightening of her heart. It was obviously one of Gav's favourites too; she was amused at the thought of her brother picking out the photo. Smiling, she looked down at the table, the next items were two of her favourite rock posters, one of Nirvana's 'Nevermind' cover art, the other of Mumford and Sons in concert.

'Who brought these in?" she asked.

"Your friend, Enjolras", said Sally picking up drawing pins and placing both posters on the board.

"He did?"

"Yes, he seems like a very thoughtful young man", she said giving Eponine a sidelong glance.

"Hmmm..they look great, don't they? The posters?" asked Eponine as Sally arranged them on the wall.

"Well honey, I'm more of Patti Labelle fan, but whatever helps you get your memory back is ok by me", she said, smiling.

"Hey Sally? If it's not too much trouble, could you help me into the shower? I feel unbelievably grotty, and I'd _love_ to shave my legs" she said, forgetting that Dr Houseman was still in the room.

He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry Doc. Forgot you were there", she apologised sheepishly.

Dr Houseman raised his hands defensively. "Whatever helps you feel better Eponine".

As Sally helped Eponine into the bathroom and closed the door behind them, Dr Houseman walked slowly over to the corkboard. Reaching into the pocket of his white coat he pulled out a piece of paper and carefully pinned it on the board, partially concealing it under another photo. _'Rally in Zuccotti Park'_ said the flyer.

* * *

Enjolras, across town, was engaged in his own form of therapy. After leaving Zuccotti Park, he'd walked the entire way down to the Village. And now, only a hundred metres away he could see the outdoor sign for The Musain. As he got closer he could make out objects all over the pavement, all the way up the front step to the club's entrance. Flowers, cards and candles lay scattered everywhere. Bending down, Enjolras picked up a card, on the front of which someone had placed photos of Grantaire and Courfeyrac. Inside the writing said:

_If I should ever die, God forbid,  
let this be my epitaph:  
The only proof he needed  
For the existence of God, was music"  
― Kurt Vonnegut_

He picked up another one. Someone had done a sketch of Grantaire and written the words, _"To the greatest barman in New York, I raise a glass. Gone but not forgotten"_. He recalled Grantaire's last words that he might not be remembered well. _How wrong he was._

Running a hand over his face and into his hair, he stood up. The club was closed. Looking through the darkened windows, he could make out the empty chairs and empty tables from which they had made so many plans, had written so much music. Had it all been for naught? How to begin again?

Stepping down, he turned and looked both ways in the street. Taking a deep breath he made his way up the road to the coffee shop that Courfeyrac had favoured before and after rehearsals. Here he had talked about his latest conquests to the group while Enjolras had rolled his eyes, Jehan had swooned, and Combeferre and Feuilly had perused the Village Voice.

He usually ordered a double shot espresso but today he ordered a cappuccino, extra foam. It was what Courfeyrac used to order. As he sat sipping the coffee he recalled all the good times they'd had together as a group, sharing ideas, striving for something better. Their righteous indignation as a group at the injustices in the world, and their excitement as they planned to make their stand at Zuccotti Park.

After spending an hour in the coffee shop with his thoughts, he folded his newspaper under his arm and continued walking for a further three blocks. When he'd reached his destination he stood out the front on the pavement, staring up to the second floor window. _Eponine's apartment_. Looking at the flowers on her balcony he recalled holding her while she slept in her bed, the desire he had felt for her and still felt, the strength of character that radiated from within her tiny body and shone from her eyes.

Turning now, he looked over in the direction of Washington Park. From here he could make out the tops of the trees and the uppermost part of the Arch. _Will I ever get that time back?_

* * *

Later that night…..

Eponine was sleeping soundly. For the first time since her surgery she was not in the grips of a bad dream. Instead her mind took her to a comforting place. Standing in the midst of a large forest, she watched as red and orange leaves fell silently to the ground. The warmth of the sun felt good on her skin. She looked down and large hands were encircling her waist and she felt a nuzzling into her neck. She could feel warm breath in her hair. She turned to reciprocate but the face she longed to see was blurred. Full lips pressed to hers and she could smell and taste coffee in the kiss. Something about it felt so familiar to her. Willing her mind to surrender the full image, she found herself still unable to make out anything other than a shimmer of blonde hair before the image disappeared. She reached out a hand in her sleep to try and touch it again, but could not.

Eponine slowly opened her eyes and woke to find she was hugging her pillow. There was a light streaming under the heavy curtains in her room_. A full moon?_ Rubbing her eyes, she got up and walked over to the montage of images her friends had made for her. She let her fingers touch each one. Smiling at a photo of her and Grantaire, she suddenly saw the corner of another photo underneath it. Lifting the photo up, Eponine pulled out a flyer of some kind. Across the top blazed the words _'Rally in Zuccotti Park'_ and underneath was a picture of Les Mis amongst other acts slated to appear. A shooting pain in her temple made her hold the wall for support. Her head ached. She heard a gunshot. Then another. Then three more in the distance. Frightened, she looked around. She was alone. Outside, the nurses were going about their business, taking phone calls and running through paperwork. She was the only one who heard it. Her shoulder started to ache and she felt a phantom force push her, jolting her backwards. Trying not to stumble, she looked down at the bandage on her shoulder. A sudden realisation took hold of her. _I was shot?_

* * *

A few miles away, on the balcony of Combeferre's apartment Enjolras was looking at the same bright moon. The day's journey had helped him to clarify his thoughts. He had to hope that Eponine would eventually remember what they had. But in the meantime he needed to find a renewed purpose. In his heart, he could feel the courage of his convictions surfacing again. The fire in his belly had not been extinguished, merely temporarily doused.

There was sadness, but he knew that Courfeyrac and Grantaire would not have wanted the rally in Zuccotti Park to be their last stand. He could hear Grantaire's sarcasm now, asking him whether he was a revolutionary or not. And if he thought about it hard enough, he could feel an encouraging pat on his shoulder from Courfeyrac. He knew for certain that Courf' would want him to go on, to be the way forward in the movement.

In that moment, it was decided. Tomorrow he would talk to Valjean.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** No notes this time. This was a difficult chapter.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

_I will remember you  
__Will you remember me?  
__Don't let your life pass you by  
__Weep not for the memories__  
_

_I'm so tired but I can't sleep  
__Standin' on the edge of something much too deep  
__It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word  
__Though we are screaming inside oh we can't be heard__  
_

_I will remember you  
__Will you remember me?  
__Don't let your life pass you by  
__Weep not for the memories__  
_

_I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose  
__Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
__But once there was darkness, a deep and endless night  
__You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light__  
_

_I will remember you  
__Will you remember me?  
__Don't let your life pass you by  
__Weep not for the memories__  
_

_ - Sarah McLachlan - I Will Remember You _

* * *

**Chapter 22.**

All night Eponine had paced her floor, and though she knew she should not exhaust herself in this fashion her mind would not allow her to sleep. She tried to recall every minute feeling she'd had looking at the rally flyer. Sally and Dr Houseman had gone home hours ago. She had no one to discuss the brief flashback she'd experienced nor to ask them if she had, indeed been shot. She'd tried to address her questions to the nursing staff on night duty but all of them had apparently been advised by Dr Houseman that any questions she had must be directed to him.

Desperate to ease her sleeplessness and frustration, she turned her attention to the notebook Sally had given her. She started writing down what she'd experienced including the images she had seen during her dream and the feelings she'd had. She wrote two headings on the page and any feelings and images scrawled next to them:

_Dream: warm, loved, sunshine, kiss, blonde, coffee, autumn leaves, feeling of being safe._

_Shoulder: Phantom pushing, heard gunshots, echoes all around, frightened, smothered._

Somehow just the action of writing it down where it couldn't be lost gave her mind some relief. She was exhausted and looking to the clock above the nurses' station she realised why; it was getting close to four a.m. Climbing back into bed, she once again hugged her pillow to her, trying to recapture the comforting feeling she'd experienced in her dream. It did not take long for her heavy lids to close again in sleep.

* * *

Several hours later, Enjolras was already up. He too had experienced his first peaceful sleep since the shooting. When he first woke he still had to blink hard to realise what had taken place, and that his friends were really gone, but now there was a purpose to his life.

He showered quickly and while he was dressing he punched in a text to Valjean. _"Interested in talking? Meet me at La Colombe' on Lafayette Street at 9am"._ Within minutes his cell beeped._ "9am it is"._ He had no idea what he was going to say to Valjean but he hoped that the older man would be able to give him some guidance. As he buttoned up his shirt - customarily leaving the top three undone - he considered the fact that he had yet to discuss his thoughts with the remaining members of Les Amis. In particular, Combeferre was finding it hard to deal with the loss of Courfeyrac and Grantaire. Last night they'd eaten dinner in virtual silence, aside from the occasional comment on the nightly news, each engrossed in their own thoughts.

_No_, he decided. _Until I know exactly what I'm going to do, it's best to play my cards close to my chest. _He hadn't even decided if getting Les Amis back together was a good idea. The rest of the group were still in the midst of their grief, as was he, and he felt it premature to touch on a still-fresh wound until he was certain.

Grabbing his faded black leather jacket from the hanger, he realised he'd been wearing it at the rally and hastily put it back, as if he'd been bitten by a snake. Instead he grabbed a rumpled navy blazer, putting it on over his jeans and boots.

Walking out into the kitchen, he found Combeferre eating cereal and watching the morning news, where the rally at Zuccotti Park was still making headlines. "You should turn that off 'Ferre", said Enjolras, grabbing his wallet off the counter.

"They still haven't caught that bastard Montparnasse you know? Where are you off to?" he said turning from the television.

"Valjean just wanted to have a chat, so I thought I'd catch up with him for coffee this morning".

"Are you going to the hospital today?" asked Combeferre.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea".

"She'll remember eventually Enj", he said insightfully.

"Remember what, exactly?" frowned Enjolras leaning on the bench.

"Enj, man, this is me ok? I know the two of you were getting close".

"Well it doesn't matter, does it? When or even _if _she remembers, she's also going to remember what happened to Grantaire and Courf'. Anyhow, it's nothing, we're just friends".

"That's bullshit and you know it, you're just down", shot back Combeferre.

"This from a man who has yet to get out of his pyjamas. I have to go 'Ferre. We can catch up for dinner later alright?" said Enjolras. He raised a hand in farewell and walked out the door.

* * *

Eponine woke slowly, her mind was whirling and fear had gathered like a knot of cement in her belly. Sally had come in to give her breakfast and when she saw the look on Eponine's face she immediately went to her, asking if she was alright. Eponine only nodded and asked to see Dr Houseman.

Walking to her door, Sally turned to her worriedly, "Eponine, your friends will here soon, ok?"

Eponine looked up to her, her eyes welling with tears to her, "Not all of them will be, will they?"

Sally walked back over to frail young woman and sat down on her bed. She hugged Eponine close to her. "Honey, I'm going to go get Dr Houseman right now. Hold tight".

Just as Sally was walking out, Feuilly and Jehan arrived. Sally put a hand on Jehan's shoulder and whispered something quietly to both of them. Jehan nodded.

"Good Morning 'Ponine", he said, smiling as he walked over to the bed. Forgoing any sense of awkwardness he reached over and gave her a warm hug. "Do you mind if we sit on the bed with you?"

She shook her head and they sat on either side of her.

Dr Houseman and Sally came in. Dr Houseman pulled up a chair across from the trio, rubbing his chin.

"Eponine, Sally tells me you're upset and wanted to speak with me"

"Why haven't Grantaire and Courfeyrac been in to see me?" she asked. Next to her, Jehan grabbed her hand, rubbing it instinctively.

"I was shot, wasn't I?", she continued, looking down at her bandages as she spoke. Reaching behind her she pulled out the rally flyer.

"I was shot here, at the rally _wasn't I_?" As she spoke she felt a pounding in her temples. She raised her free hand to her head. Releasing Jehan's hand from her own, she stood up in the middle of the room.

Again the pain came, almost causing her to fall, but she held herself steady and like a thunderbolt the images came raining in on her; the atmosphere at Zuccotti Park, the larger than expected crowd, the yellow tent, how happy the band were – their faces filled with expectation. She heard the incredible speech Valjean had given, with Gavroche' watching on the other side of the stage from her. She saw Les Amis on the stage and Enjolras inspiring them all like the amazing performer he was. Then just like in her nightmares, the darkness closed in; Montparnasse at the front of the stage holding a gun, her waving at Enjolras unable to get his attention, running across the stage, and from the side a flash, Grantaire in front of her and the weight as they all went down together.

"Where is Grantaire? Where is Courf'?" she asked again, imploring them. Behind her, the monitors were beeping louder. "Are they in the hospital too?" Even as she asked the question she was afraid of the answer.

It was Dr Houseman who spoke first.

"Eponine, I'm so sorry, they didn't –

"NO!"

" – make it. Courfeyrac died instantly, and Grantaire was haemorrhaging uncontrollably. We did everything we could".

"NO! It's not true!". And even as she said it, she knew it was.

Sobbing, she was rooted to the spot. Grantaire and Courfeyrac dead? And Montparnasse had killed them?. Because of _her._ She couldn't breathe. She had to get out of here, away. In a flash she ripped off the monitors on her chest, backing out of the room before any of them could stop her and sprinted down the hall.

* * *

Walking into the hospital grounds, Enjolras felt born anew. His heart still ached for his loss, but after talking with Valjean he'd felt a renewed sense of self. The older man had not pushed him, but simply sat at the table and talked to him about his life. What dreams they shared for their country, how they may still be of vital use. He had asked Enjolras to recall the moments on stage at Zuccotti Park, when he had the crowd in the palm of his hand and hope had rung through his body.

He'd asked him to remember those feelings, try to capture them in a bubble and push forward. "You cannot let them win, Enjolras", he had said. "There is enough love in this country, in this movement to lift you passed this and your brothers too".

"My brothers?" he had asked Valjean, thinking him mistaken.

"Yes, your brothers, Les Amis – a tighter band of brothers I have never seen". His last words had struck home. When he had left Valjean, he shook his hand warmly and vowed to speak with the rest of the group over the next few days and perhaps arrange another meeting with their revolutionary elder_. It can be done._

With a new-found energy in his step, he had made his way to Downtown Hospital. Even if it killed him he would not abandon Eponine. She was as much a part of Les Amis as anyone, and he would not leave her behind, even if visiting her meant torture for him.

* * *

Surgical trays went flying onto the floor. Eponine had run headlong into a nurse and had kept going. She had no idea where she was headed but she needed to get away from the pain. Seeing an exit sign she ran in that direction. Her legs were still not steady, and as she rounded the corner she tripped and went down on her knees. Head down and sobbing, to a bystander it might have appeared like she was praying.

Tears spilling on the floor, she struggled to her feet. Through the glass door she saw Enjolras who was just about to make his way in. He saw her too, and gave her a small wave. Then, taking in her appearance, he hurriedly pushed the door open. She looked so tiny in the disheveled white hospital gown, and she was utterly distraught. Running over to her, he dropped his bag and grasped her in his arms.

"Grantaire and Courfeyrac are dead", she said simply.

"I know, I know". He hugged her to him, letting her sob into his shoulder as he grasped her hair and kissed the top of her head.

Leaning into him the smell of coffee fills her senses. Looking up to him, she saw the blonde curls framing his face, as if for the first time.

Eponine released herself from his grip. Awakening finally and completely into reality, the images came to her steadily; the argument at Musain, sitting amongst her vinyl records with him, his lips on hers, the comfort of laying with him in her bed – him wrapped around her like a question mark, Enjolras eating her dumpling and his rich, beautiful, unexpected laughter.

"You? You and I? she said, dumbstruck.

"Yes".

Eponine took a step towards him, and then suddenly started pounding on his chest, crying. And he let her.

"You-you didn't tell me!"

"I couldn't. God I wanted to. They told me not to".

The sting of her hand across his face was sharp and brought a red mark immediately. As he raised his hand to his cheek, behind them Enjolras saw that Dr Houseman, Sally, Jehan and Feuilly had caught up with her.

"But not even about us! Why!"

"I couldn't force your memories Eponine. It wouldn't have been fair".

She raised her hand again and he grabbed her wrist. Grabbing her in a bear hug he let her struggle and sob, and rage against him.

"Why did I live? Why was it me?" she asked.

"Eponine, I lived too," he said gently.

Taking a step back from him, they stood opposed, no more than a foot apart, looking at each other.

"Eponine, honey we need to get you back to your room", said Sally's comforting voice from behind her. She felt a hand on her elbow.

"I'm fine", she said, shaking it off.

Then, turning around to face the gathered group the blackness enveloped her again and this time she welcomed it.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N**: The day of the funerals for Grantaire and Courfeyrac is fast approaching, but in the aftermath of Eponine's breakthrough at the hospital, how will both she and Enjolras fill the time? Will they find the inner strength to move forward?

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

_Here's wishing you the bluest sky,  
__And hoping something better comes tomorrow.  
__Hoping all the verses rhyme,  
__And the very best of choruses to  
__Follow all the doubt and sadness.  
__I know that better things are on the way.__  
_

_Here's hoping all the days ahead  
__Won't be as bitter as the ones behind you.  
__Be an optimist instead,  
__And somehow happiness will find you.  
__Forget what happened yesterday,  
__I know that better things are on the way.__  
_

_It's really good to see you rocking out  
__And having fun,  
__Living like you just begun.  
__Accept your life and what it brings.  
__I hope tomorrow you'll find better things.  
__I know tomorrow you'll find better things.__  
_

_ - The Kinks, "Better Things"_

**Eponine**

Two days had gone past since Eponine's breakthrough and subsequent blackout in the hospital. In the ensuing chaos when she had come to, she'd lashed out and told all of them to leave her alone, banning everyone from the hospital. She refused to take visitors, not even Gavroche'. And despite the initial protestations from the group, including Dr Houseman and Sally, they had respected her wishes.

Eponine had spent her first day alone in her room alternating between sobbing uncontrollably and sitting in long moments of silence, staring at the blank wall opposite her and trying to make sense of it all. Whenever she closed her eyes scenes from the four days she had lost kept flashing in front of her as if from a broken reel of film. Her headaches had ceased but she found it impossible to turn her mind off. There was a deep and despairing hole in her, and no matter how it filled with her grief and guilt and shame at surviving, that hole still felt hungry as if it wanted to take her very soul down with it.

Later in the afternoon, after begging Sally and Dr Houseman - and despite their initial hesitation - they had found a newscast for her of the shooting. Both of them had stayed with her in the room as she saw for the very first time how the tragedy at Zuccotti Park had unfolded to onlookers. It all seemed so surreal; Enjolras the last on stage, smiling unguardedly as he lingered there. She spotted herself and the wall of reporters in front of her, blocking the view of her waving at him. And then finally the excruciating scene that made her scar throb reactively: from each side of the stage she saw herself and Grantaire make for Enjolras and leap in front of him as the gunshots cracked – even above the roar of the crowd. Then the three gunshots echoed to the side of the stage, the cameraman swinging his camera around as he turned to the tent. Replaying it continuously in her mind previously it had all seemed to happen in slow motion, but the reality was it had taken place from start to finish in less than two minutes.

In between it all, she often found herself looking at the visitors' chair where Enjolras had sat, watching over her. When she'd told them all to get out, she had caught a momentary look of hurt in his eyes before the usual stoic expression and set jaw had returned. He had left the bag of books with her and gone with the rest of the group. It was only after speaking with Sally and seeing the footage had she realised Enjolras too, had been injured and still had stitches in his scalp where the bullet had grazed him.

Eponine had eaten her meals in silence, and even the affable Sally could not coax her into a deeper conversation. When she'd finally gone to bed that night her exhausted mind finally allowed her to rest and she had gone into a deep, untroubled sleep for close to thirteen hours.

* * *

On the second day Eponine rose from her bed feeling recharged and more than a bit remorseful of the treatment she had dished out to her friends. They had all been so patient with her. While Dr Houseman had removed her bandage in the treatment room, she had asked Sally – who was assisting him – to call Gavroche's foster parents and see if he could visit her. They were more than delighted to hear from her as Gavroche' had been in a permanent foul mood since her blackout. He would be there in a few hours they had told Sally.

When Dr Houseman removed the last of the bandage wrapping, Eponine looked down, expecting to see a large ugly scar. Instead her skin showed only one red line, albeit it was still thick and angry looking, and the surrounding skin was pink yet it appeared to be healing well. "Nice work, Doc" she said appreciatively.

"I'd like to take all the credit Eponine, but we also had a very good plastic surgeon in theatre with us. In about six months, the scar will be all but invisible".

"And the scars in my head, what about those? Will I ever be whole again?" she asked, almost to herself. "Will I ever be _me_ again?" Looking up she continued, "I'm _so_ sorry for how I treated both of you yesterday".

Sally looked across at the Doctor. "Eponine, you've been through a great ordeal", said Dr Houseman, turning to her. "And nothing you have said or done is out of line from what we expect from such a traumatic experience. When you _do_ leave the hospital you need to be kind to yourself, do your favourite things, things that give you a sense of who you are. As for the memories, they will always be with you but dealing with them will, in time get easier. And as for what happened yesterday, there's no need to apologise, right Sally?"

"That's right Honey, though I do think you should cut your friends some slack, those boys have been really lovely with you" she said gently.

Eponine watched as Sally got rid of the bandages in the clinical waste. "I know, they've been so wonderful", she said. "I – I have a lot to work out, and the funerals of the boys are tomorrow, do you think I can go home _today_?"

The concerned look between Dr Houseman and Sally did not go unnoticed by her.

"Well, in light of how you're healing, and the fact you have continuous memory, we can't _forcefully_ keep you here. I think we can discharge you late this afternoon, _depending _on the next few hours. And we can make an appointment for next week so we can check your stitches and maybe book some appointments with the psychology department to see how you're going. Do you feel up to that?" asked the Doctor.

"I guess so".

"Do you have someone to take you home?" inquired Sally.

"If Gav comes with his foster folks they can give me a ride".

"Ok. For the rest of the day just take it easy, rest and enjoy the time with your brother", advised Sally.

Eponine had finally left the hospital at twilight with Gav' and his foster parents Michael and Sara. She had felt a strange mix of relief and fear. She was eager to get back to her own surroundings yet she was still keenly aware of her own fragile state. She was grateful that Sally, her ever caring nurse, had slipped her home phone and cell numbers into her pocket on the way out before giving her a heartfelt hug.

Michael and Sara had asked if she needed company and were willing to let Gavroche' stay with her overnight, but Eponine had declined. She just wanted to have a bath, listen to her music, and get ready for what was sure to be an emotional day at Calvary Cemetery. She gave Gavroche' a tight hug and had asked him to escort her to the boy's funeral which he agreed to with a sad smile before waving goodnight.

* * *

**Enjolras**

Enjolras had spent those same two days in solemn thought. No-one could shake him out of his funk. He spent the time writing a eulogy for Courfeyrac, and finally he'd broached the subject of regrouping Les Amis with the remaining members. At first Jehan and Marius in particular had reacted angrily at first, repeating similar words to his own that it was too soon.

When they'd calmed down he decided to tell them more about his meeting with Valjean, and his belief that the group could continue to be an inspirational influence in the Occupy movement.

For the first time, he gave a detailed account of all that had transpired over coffee with the elder statesman of the movement. Valjean had told him of his early days on the poorer, seedier side of life and how he had turned to minor crime including stealing bread from a delivery van. Mostly his crimes were ones necessary for his survival. He had much in common with Eponine it seemed, his only safe haven had been finding a place in a shelter which were crowded with men like him, destitute and lacking enough hope to help themselves. Here, amongst others like him, was where the seeds of his revolution had been sewn. Watching the banks get richer, flaunting their fraudulent ways while the ever-widening gap created scores more people just like him. For years he had maintained a secretive online presence, keeping track and trying to uncover the discrepancies of the big corporations, and as his life and wealth improved, he had begun funding agencies and programmes that attempted to bridge the distance.

The only lightness in his life had been his daughter, Cosette, whom he had been able to adopt after meeting her dying mother in one of the homeless shelters. The two had remained friends for years and upon her death, the woman -Fantine'- had asked in her will that Cosette remain in his care. Thankfully Valjean, by that time, had been in a position to assist.

It was not lost on Enjolras how Valjean had emphasised to him how important this love in his life had been in fully rebuilding his character. "Without love", he had said to Enjolras, "the revolution is for naught". The elder man was nothing if not insightful, but Enjolras felt these comments were directed at him alone, and did not share them with the group, awkward as always in talking of love and other matters.

Valjean had continued on, discussing with Enjolras the deaths of Courfeyrac and Grantaire. He asked the younger man about Courfeyrac and his passion for justice and equality. Enjolras had given an honest reply, "He was known to be frivolous, charming with women but in his soul he was as committed as I to the cause".

"And Grantaire?" Valjean had asked. Again, Enjolras had tried to be frank. " I didn't really know Grantaire till the very end, in fact I'm discovering more about him _now_ than I ever knew before, but I think Grantaire at any point, would have been ready for a fight, fisticuffs or otherwise".

"And do you think they would want you to continue your work with the music and the movement?" pushed the older man.

Enjolras had sat back in his seat for several moments, biting his lip before finally answering: "Yes".

After relaying the conversation to the surviving members of the group, all at the table had been silent. Combeferre, ever the steady centre was the first to voice his agreement. "Not to keep going would dishonour their memory", he had said. Marius also agreed that 'Courf would have wanted them to press forward. After several hours in Combeferre's living room contemplating what that meant for all of them, they had come to the same conclusion. At some point in the very near future, Les Amis would again grace the stage.

* * *

The night before the funerals, Enjolras found himself alone in the apartment. Standing on the balcony he looked out towards the city lights below. His thoughts turned to Eponine. It seemed to him that eons had passed since he had held her, not mere days.

She had been in the back of his mind for the entire time since leaving the hospital but each time thoughts of her surfaced he pushed them down again. She had been so _angry_ with him.

He knew there was nothing he could have done to make a difference to the way things had panned out. The doctors had been right; the memories were hers alone and he had no right to force her, so he hadn't. Either way the pain that surfaced would have happened eventually. He took to heart her brief moment of happiness when she had seen him through the door at the hospital. The raw joy of that moment had threatened to break his façade in front of the others. _How do we get back what was lost?_ But he had no idea how or when his next opportunity to speak with her alone might be.

Adding to his trepidation, earlier he had called Downtown Hospital to check on her progress and was surprised when Sally had taken the phone and broke the news to him that that she had already been discharged. Ending the call, disappointed he'd looked down at his cell – no calls, and no messages. Understandably she probably needed some time alone, and yet he still felt a small sting at the lack of contact.

The funeral for Grantaire and Courfeyrac was tomorrow, and maybe she would be there…

* * *

**A/N:** _When continuous memory returns, Post-Traumatic Amnesia is considered to have resolved._


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N**: My only hope for this chapter is that I've captured the depth of emotion I felt while writing it, and that this is a fitting farewell for two Les Mis favourites. Sadness,hope and bittersweet memories are hard to capture in one event. I hope you like what I've written and that you feel the same catharsis I did.

If you'd like to have a look, the Wiki page for Calvary Cemetery has a great photo of the cemetery with the NYC skyline behind it and the sky just as I've described.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:** _"Amazing Grace"_ by the Libera Angel Voices (1993) on YouTube. Stunningly beautiful version and the boys could pass for mini-me's of Les Amis. I wrote the section pertinent to it while listening. If you have the time, do have a listen. But grab a tissue beforehand.

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Never-Ending Road to Calvary**

"_Ring the bells that still can ring  
__Forget your perfect offering  
__There is a crack in everything  
__That's how the light gets in."__  
_

— _ Leonard Cohen, "Anthem"_

The funerals for Courfeyrac and Grantaire were not until late afternoon, and Eponine took advantage of that by having a late breakfast and playing her favourite records before getting showered and ready. She dressed carefully for the day ahead. Wearing a black, knee-length dress with capped sleeves and a fitted but modest bodice; it fit her curves perfectly yet was timelessly classic. Dipping into her closet she pulled out a pair of black kitten heels and slid them on, looking at herself in the full-length mirror. _You can do this_, she thought. _You can do this for the boys._

She twisted her auburn hair into a slightly messy but elegant French twist, finishing it with a baroque hair pin. She carefully applied minimal makeup, making sure to wear waterproof mascara. There was something about the normality of getting dressed and applying her makeup that steadied her. For a moment she could allow herself to believe that this was any other day, and not the day on which she would be bidding farewell to two of her dearest friends.

It was only when she went to get her handbag and phone did she pause. She had made the wallpaper on her cell a photo of Grantaire and Courfeyrac, arms around each other's shoulders at The Musain. She smiled sadly at the memory, and then made the call to Gavroche's foster parents, letting them know she was ready to go.

* * *

She was already on the stoop when Michael and Sara arrived with Gavroche'. He got out of the car to meet her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He looked very dapper; wearing black pants and a pale blue collared shirt, the only sign of her ragamuffin brother she could detect was his bedhead hair and scuffed black shoes. He looked up to her, cheekily, "You scrub up alright, Sis… for an old duck". Rubbing his hair, she replied, "And for a cheeky blighter you don't look half bad yourself, Gav'…are you going to be alright today? You don't have to come".

He looked down at his feet, "I'm fine 'Ponine – I want to say goodbye too, you know?".

"I know", she said softly, squeezing his hand. Making their way down the stairs they got into the car and began their journey to Calvary Cemetery.

* * *

It was a clear and cloudless afternoon on a perfect fall day in New York City as people arrived at Calvary Cemetery in Queens: The rays of the late afternoon sun had given the sky a dusty blue and peach hue, and from the chosen place of burial the city skyline framed the image of stone angels and poetic epitaphs written permanently in memoriam.

Enjolras walked amongst the tombs and graves with the remaining members of Les Amis. All of them wore tailored black suits and crisp white shirts with ties, save for Jehan who was wearing a dark grey three-piece suit with an embellished paisley print and black bow tie.

As they made their way over to the Third Calvary section, it dawned on Enjolras just how many people were there. He saw people of all ages and all walks of life, many wearing attire more suited for a music festival than a funeral service. He was puzzled but his chain of thought was broken as the sound of a lone angelic voice echoed in the air:

_Amazing Grace  
__How sweet the sound  
__That saved a wretch like me  
__I once was lost but now I'm found  
__Was blind, but now I see__  
_

_'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear  
__And Grace my fears relieved  
__How precious did that Grace appear  
__The hour I first believed__  
_

_Through many dangers, toils and snares  
__I have already come;  
__'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far  
__and Grace will lead me home.__  
_

_When we've been here ten thousand years  
__Bright shining as the sun.  
__We've no less days to sing God's praise  
__Than when we've first begun.__  
_

Listening with tears in her eyes to the young soloist from St Patricks, Eponine took her place with Gavroche' in the second row of mourners. She glanced behind her. There was at least a thousand people there or more. They were gathered together in groups respectfully and quietly.

The attendees listened in near silence as Courfeyrac's family priest; Father Michael gave a dignified Catholic service on behalf of both families. Once the formalities were concluded, Father Michael called for family members and friends to speak if they so wished. The first to speak was Courfeyrac's brother Henre', who spoke tearfully of his childhood and their tight relationship even as they grew into men with differing interests and views. He spoke of his brother's belief in Les Amis and commended his brother's other family as he called them. By the end of his speech, Henre' was openly weeping and was escorted by family members back to his seat next to his distraught parents.

Father Michael motioned to Enjolras, and Eponine watched as he stood, stiffening his back and made his way to the slightly raised area of grass. Clearing his throat, and looking out to the gathered throng of people, he began;

"_My personal belief is that through this life, you're lucky if you have four or five people whom you can truly call a friend. And you can share any thought you have, enjoy their company, be parted and separated, debate and argue, come back together again and pick up right where you left off. They'll forgive your faults and affirm your virtues. Courf' was one of those people for me. And I believe and hope I was that for him". _Enjolras' voice cracked slightly as he came to his last words. "_In going forward and carrying on without him in this bittersweet life, I will choose to remember how he lived, not how he died and hope that you all will do the same"._

Father Michael approached Enjolras as he stepped back and shook his hand warmly. He now called for people to speak on behalf of Grantaire. There was an awkward silence amongst the crowd. Grantaire's father had not come to the funeral, nor any of his immediate family, save for a few cousins. For almost a minute no-one spoke and no-one stepped forward. And then a shuffling sound was heard as a slight figure in a black dress made her way over to the priest, watched by the entire congregation. Eponine had no notes with her and was terrified of public speaking. But today, of all days, she paid that no mind. Someone needed to speak for Grantaire.

Raising her head, she looked out to the New York skyline seeing a ray of sun break over the buildings. Taking a deep breath she began:

"_When I first came to this city, I was alone, for the first few years I struggled to find hope. I didn't have a job but one day I saw a sign in the window of The Musain, advertising a bartending position. I wasn't even old enough to drink there but that didn't seem to worry the scruffy dark-headed guy who interviewed me. I say interview lightly because really he just wanted a chat. He poured me a shot, and told me about this band he loved, really admired, that rehearsed there sometimes". _Looking over to where Enjolras stood with the others_, she continued, "That band was Les Amis. "Do you know", _she smiled_, "when I first started working at the club I didn't know anything about making drinks or pouring beer. But Grantaire, frustrated as he was with me at times, spent many hours showing me the ropes._

"_Grantaire will be categorised by some as a drunkard. And it's true, he was rarely sober. But to me he was my cynical world- weary buddy with the laughing blue eyes. My co-worker who was always ready with a quick retort or a dirty joke, and boy he could make a mean martini. He took me in, when others wouldn't have. He was my friend, and I will miss him, always.."_

Watching her speak, a lump had formed in Enjolras' throat. Everything he admired in her came to bear in his heart. She looked beautiful, no longer a street kid, but a woman. Her strength, her empathy and her determination radiated from her. He had not expected her to attend, let alone speak today after all she had been through. But he should have known, from previous experience, not to underestimate her_. She's stronger than all of us_, he thought.

Hands shaking, but shedding no tears, Eponine' walked away from the front of the crowd to take her place next to Gavroche who grabbed her hand and told her roughly, "You're the bravest person I've ever known 'Ponine".

* * *

As the formalities of the service came to an end, Enjolras felt a heaviness in his suit pocket. Remembering what it was, he reached in and pulled out Grantaire's engraved pewter hip flask. He had taken it from the hospital room in the minutes following the barman's death. He walked around to Grantaire's casket, placing it gently on the top of the casket amongst the flowers.

There was a low metallic sound as the boys coffins were slowly lowered to their final resting place. From the rear of the crowd the quiet strains of a familiar song began carrying on the wind across the lawn. One voice at first, alone, then gradually more voices began singing the words:

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Singing a song of angry men?  
__It is the music of a people  
__Who will not be slaves again!  
__When the beating of your heart  
__Echoes the beating of the drums  
__There is a life about to start  
__When tomorrow comes!  
__  
_

Across from her Eponine looked towards Les Amis. _They_ were not singing, they were looking around too. The sound was coming from the gathered group of mourners. And it was getting louder.

_Will you join in our crusade?  
__Who will be strong and stand with me?  
__Beyond the inequality  
__Is there a world you long to see?  
__Then join in the fight  
__That will give you the right to be free!  
__  
_

Enjolras felt immensely humbled by the singing. _They're singing our words_. _They believe. It's not over_. Looking over to Eponine, he could see her eyes glistening as she listened to the raised voices. And she too, began to sing.

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Singing a song of angry men?  
__It is the music of a people  
__Who will not be slaves again!  
__When the beating of your heart  
__Echoes the beating of the drums  
__There is a life about to start  
__When tomorrow comes!  
__  
_

Enjolras felt a steadying hand on his shoulder. _Valjean_. "Your friends will not be forgotten, the people have not forgotten, they will rise again", he said in a low voice behind him. "Look Enjolras". Turning to the surviving members of the Les Amis he saw that they too were singing, Jehan and Marius through their tears. And he joined their voices for the final chorus.

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Say, do you hear the distant drums?  
__It is the future that we bring  
__When tomorrow comes.__  
_

* * *

As the last mourners began to depart for the wake at The Musain, Eponine too, stood to leave with Gavroche'. Michael and Sara were sitting in the car, waiting for them. Hugging Gavroche' close to her side as they walked, Eponine stopped as she heard someone call her name.

"Eponine!" Coming across the lawn towards her in the dwindling sunlight were Combeferre, Jehan, Feuilly, Marius, Cosette and finally Enjolras. "Eponine", said Combeferre, "it's so good to see you". Taking her in his strong arms, he surprised her by hugging her tightly. One by one, in turn they all embraced her, Jehan adding two kisses to each cheek. Cosette stepped forward hesitantly before hugging Eponine to her. "Your speech was beautiful", she said.

"You don't all hate me for my behaviour at the hospital?" she asked them, but also to Enjolras who had not yet spoken, but was intently watching her with those unreadable blue eyes.

"No of course not", said Feuilly. "God, what monsters we would be! We were worried _we_ had upset _you_."

"How could I ever stay mad with you lot", she responded wryly. _Sometimes we have to make our own family_, she thought, looking at their faces.

"Will you come to the wake at The Musain? It wouldn't be right without you, 'Ponine" asked Marius.

"Of course I will. I wouldn't dream of not going. Gav's folks are going to drop me off, so I'll see you there?"

Enjolras said nothing as they made their plans. His mind was a whirl, as were theirs probably, of grief and bittersweet feelings, but underlying it all there was hope. And then there was _her_. For a man known for his oratory skills, he was suddenly rendered numb.

As he watched Eponine walk to the waiting car, she turned to look at him one last time before getting in and he realised he'd lost the chance to speak with her. He looked around at the scene before him; the boys' coffins laid at rest, and the last ray of sun shining across the tombstones and watchful angels. Turning he made his way back to the group who were walking to waiting cabs.

As the car made its way across the 59th Street Bridge, Eponine suddenly heard her cell phone beep. Reaching into her bag she wondered who could be texting her. Almost everyone she knew had been at Calvary.

Finding her phone, she grabbed it and turned it over. The message was from Enjolras. And it said simply, "I love you. Forgive me".


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N**: A modern wake following a funeral is a chance for family and friends to get together, not only to mourn but to celebrate the lives of those passed. A wake can be therapeutic as it brings back good memories that help balance out the grief. This chapter shows the group at The Musain and it's an Irish-style wake, where it's a celebration of the departed lives, and is in no way meant to be disrespectful to the dead. It's in the atmosphere we find Enjolras and Eponine in the aftermath of his text. Will things be awkward?

Also, in case anyone is interested, I pictured The Musain to be like a famed Greenwich Village venue called The Village Underground. It's _exactly_ how I pictured Musain in my head. Check out the site if you're interested.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'First Time' by Lifehouse

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 25**

_We're both looking for something  
We've been afraid to find  
It's easier to be broken  
It's easier to hide_

_Looking at you, holding my breath,_  
_For once in my life, I'm scared to death,_  
_I'm taking a chance, letting you inside._

_Feeling alive all over again,_  
_As deep as the sky, under my skin_  
_Like being in love, she says_  
_For the first time_  
_Maybe I'm wrong,_  
_But I'm feeling right where I belong_  
_With you tonight_  
_Like being in love_  
_To feel for the first time_

_The world that I see inside you_  
_Waiting to come to life_  
_Waking me up to dreaming_  
_Reality in your eyes_

_Looking at you,  
__Holding my breath,  
__For once in my life  
__I'm scared to death,  
__I'm taking a chance,  
__Letting you inside.  
__  
- Lifehouse, 'First Time'__  
_

Darkness had finally descended upon the city. The Village had begun the transformation to the other side of its Gemini personality. The lights of the coffeehouses and clubs sputtered into life, people were gathering at the many boutique eateries lining the streets. Even in the chill of the night air, the Village was a hive of cultural activity.

The scene outside The Musain was bedlam. Even though the wake was by invitation only for friends and family, there was still a large crowd outside. The club was only meant to hold four-hundred and fifty patrons at capacity. Eponine had seen the crowd as Michael and Sara's car approached the block, and asked them to stop further up the street to help them avoid getting in a jam with the ten or so cabs that were jockeying to pull up near The Musain.

As she walked up to the entrance, she kept glancing down to the cell in her hand.

"_I love you. Forgive me". _

When she'd first read the text, she'd felt a warm shock run through her. It was so utterly unexpected and disarmingly beautiful that at first she'd thought perhaps Jehan had gotten hold of Enjolras' phone. But, sitting in the car and thinking it over while Gavroche' eyed her suspiciously, she realised sending a text with such a declaration of feeling was totally within Enjolras' character. She wondered if he'd ever said it out loud to anyone. She wondered if he'd do it now. _How do I even approach him?_ _At what point in a conversation do I even bring it up?_ Did he expect a text back with the same message? _Do I love him too?_ The thoughts whirled around like a dervish in her mind. _Just relax tonight_, she finally told herself. _What will be, will be._

Eponine walked around to the side of the crowd at the door, catching the eye of Gus; another member of The Musain's security team. "At least you're one I don't have to mark off the list", he said motioning to the large folder in his hand. "How you going, love?" he asked, opening the door.

"Bit of this, bit of that Gus", she replied, "Take it easy out here", she said, smiling as she made her way in.

* * *

It took a minute for Eponine's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the club. Sam, the owner of the club had put in some effort for tonight, she noted. He was an entrepreneur with clubs on both coasts, and she knew despite what others had thought of Grantaire, that Sam had trusted him. Grantaire had practically been the unofficial manager when Sam was away which was fairly frequently.

The club was darker than usual, alleviated only by the pinlights in the ceiling and large glass jars filled with pillar candles on the tables and sidebars in the club_. Gothic. Kind of morbidly humorous. The boys would have loved it, _she thought. Making her way through the crowd she saw there was no band tonight. Instead, on the stage two empty chairs had been placed a few feet apart, with soft spotlights shining down on them. On each seat, several photos of Grantaire and Courfeyrac had been placed. To the right of the stage a DJ had set up an old school booth. _Vinyl._ _Sam's gone to a lot of trouble, _she mused appreciatively_._

"It looks amazing, doesn't it?" said a voice in her right ear.

Turning around she found Jehan standing there, hands on hips looking around just as she had been.

"It does. I think the boys would really have liked it. You know I didn't see Courf's family here..did they make it?" she asked him.

"No, I have a feeling it was all too much for them today", he replied. "Henre' was a mess, understandably. They might show later, but I doubt it".

As they were speaking, behind Jehan, Eponine spotted Enjolras on the opposite side of the room, leaning up against the bar and talking with someone. He still had his jacket on but had undone his collar and tie which now hung loosely around his neck. He looked slightly dishevelled and gorgeous. _Stop it!_ she told herself. _This is not the time or place_. Only Enjolras had seen her as well, and was watching her with his head cocked to the side, occasionally taking a sip from a water bottle.

As she continued to talk to Jehan, every so often she could feel his eyes on her, chancing a glance in her direction. Something stirred within her…remembering again the warmth of him against her, his surprising vulnerability in Washington Park, and how close they had almost come to..

"There's a place for us, someday there'll be a place for u-"

"Jehan, you're _not_ quoting West Side Story at me? _Really"_, she said.

"I wanted to see if you were actually listening to me, and it seemed pertinent", he smirked.

"I – I don't know what you mean, J", she shot back.

'Oh come _on_ "Ponine, you two have been staring at each other for the past five minutes. And Enj has been acting odd since we left…"

"Considering what we had to do today, Jehan, I think all of us are probably acting a bit weird, no?"

"I know', he said sadly, "but I'm just…I think we could all use a little happiness that's all".

She leaned over, kissing Jehan on the cheek. "You're a lovely man J, you know that? I need a drink, do you want one?"

"I'll take a beer. The others are over at the usual table 'Ponine".

"See you in a bit", she said, snaking her way through the crowd to the bar.

* * *

When she got to the bar, she realised Sam must have employed staff from an events company for the night – none of the staff looked familiar to her. She waited patiently for ten minutes trying to get their attention. _Damn it! I just want one drink to settle my nerves_. She'd just about given up when she heard an ear piercing whistle beside her. She turned to find Enjolras next to her, fingers in his mouth, summoning the bartender.

"What'll it be?" asked the bartender, walking up to them.

"Just a beer, and a vodka tonic, twist of lime please", she said.

She turned to Enjolras, "Thanks". He was looking at her expectantly. _God this is so awkward!_ She thought.

"I thought your speech for Grantaire today was really good. I, uh, I never knew that it was him who hired you_". Get yourself together man; you're a bundle of nerves. Are you man or mouse? _He silently admonished himself.

"And yours too, was lovely. I'm sure Courf's family really appreciated it as well", she replied, searching his face for a clue as to what was going on in that mind of his. The bartender came over with her drinks. As she pulled out her wallet to pay, the bartender put up his hands defensively, "I'm so sorry I didn't recognise you – Eponine isn't it? Your drinks are on the house, the band's too".

"Oh, thanks", she said, before picking up the glasses. 'I have to take this beer to Jehan", she said to Enjolras. She went to move away but felt a warm hand on the small of her back.

"Eponine?"

"Yes?" She turned drinks in hand, waiting.

"Can we talk?" he said,

"Here? Ok, just give me a minute". He waited for her as she made her way over to the table where Combeferre, Feuilly, Jehan, Cosette and Marius were sitting. When she returned, he grabbed her hand and she could feel the familiar electricity between them when they touched. Pulling her gently through the crowd, he guided her into a little alcove in the back corner of the club. There was a plush two seater and the small space was decorated as the rest of the club with two candles burning in glass jars.

Sitting down next to her, he asked her directly, "Did you receive my message?"

"The text? Yes".

"And…?"

"You know I have feelings for you, Enjolras", she said plainly.

"I mean what I said to you".

"But that's just it, you _didn't_ sa_y _it to me, you _texted_ it to me. It was beautiful, and I can appreciate how hard these things are for you. But it's not the same as hearing it from your lips".

Turning to her, he placed his hands on each side of her face.

"I _love_ you. I'm in love with you", he said pulling back to look at her. "Alright?"

"I don't know", she said cheekily, "Kiss me so I know for certain?"

He leaned in as if to kiss her then stopped, millimetres from her mouth, "This is a lot of pressure you know, am I being rated out of ten?"

"Shut up and kiss me already", she whispered into his ear.

Heart pounding, his eyes dropped to her lips. Placing his hand behind her head, her pulled her in and kissed her gently, hesitant at first. Feeling her respond, he deepened the kiss slowly. It felt like all the emotions of the past week were contained in it. _God how he wanted her._

"Sweet Jesus, will you look at this! Enjolras our fearless leader engaged in a public display of affection! With our Ponine, no less!" Breaking the kiss, they both turned to find Feuilly standing in front of them, drunk as a skunk.

Eponine felt a deep blush rising up her neck. She pulled away from Enjolras reluctantly and stood up. She looked over to the bar where the rest of the group were now standing. People were getting up on the bar and exchanging stories about Courfeyrac and Grantaire.

"We should go over there", she said both to Enjolras and Feuilly.

* * *

Combeferre was standing on top of the bar, orating to the crowd below him:

"And I remember fondly the time Rihanna came into the club, right over there", he pointed, "and Courfeyrac tried unsuccessfully to hit on her. But for the next week he walked around singing 'Umbrella'". That got a loud laugh from the crowd.

Next up was Jehan, who climbed atop the bar next to 'Ferre. "Anyone who knows me, knows my love of poetry", he said to boos from the crowd including Les Amis, "Oh shut up you lot. But what you may not know is that Grantaire loved poetry too. To me it is blasphemy but now I shall recite his favourite verse:

_There once was a man from Gosham  
__Who took out his bollocks to wash em  
__his wife said Jack if you dont put em back  
__I'm gonna take those Bastards and squash em!__  
_

That got a loud guffaw from the crowd. Grantaire was indeed, very fond of dirty limericks. Eponine was standing in front of Enjolras in the crowd with the others. She smiled to herself as she felt his hand on her hip, massaging it with his thumb, sending a tingle up her spine. She reached behind and gave his hand a squeeze before disconnecting from him and going up to the bar herself. She carefully climbed up, assisted by Combeferre who grasped her hand.

"I don't know if many of you realise this", she said loudly, "but Grantaire as well as being New York's finest bartender, was also quite possibly New York's biggest Monty Python fan", she motioned to the DJ, "And so, I'd like to dedicate this song to his memory, even as we grieve for him". She stepped down, hearing the melody begin to Python's 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life'.

_Some things in life are bad  
They can really make you mad  
Other things just make you swear and curse  
When you're chewing on life's gristle  
Don't grumble, give a whistle  
And this'll help things turn out for the best_

_And always look on the bright side of life_  
_Always look on the light side of life_

_If life seems jolly rotten_  
_There's something you've forgotten_  
_And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing_  
_When you're feeling in the dumps_  
_Don't be silly chumps_  
_Just purse your lips and whistle, that's the thing_

_And always look on the bright side of life_  
_Come on!_  
_Always look on the right side of life_

_For life is quite absurd_  
_And death's the final word_  
_You must always face the curtain with a bow_  
_Forget about your sin_  
_Give the audience a grin_  
_Enjoy it, it's your last chance anyhow_

_Life's a piece of shit  
__When you look at it  
__Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true  
__You'll see it's all a show  
__Keep 'em laughing as you go  
__Just remember that the last laugh is on you  
__And always look on the bright side of life__  
_

_Always look on the right side of life_

Again another cheer from the crowd, many people were whistling and singing the song. Just as many people though, also had tears in their eyes. The bar was getting rowdy but far from thinking it inappropriate, Enjolras thought it fitting. Somewhere in the hereafter, Courfeyrac and Grantaire would be loving the spirit of camaraderie in the club. Beautiful women mourning them, and friends and family having a drink in their names.

In scattered conversations around the room, he heard people reminiscing about the boys, some laughing, a lot crying, but all fondly.

And so it went, long into the night, the tributes and stories for both boys pouring in, and for a time, even though they knew the reality – it felt like Grantaire and Courfeyrac were with them once again.

* * *

As the crowd started dwindling, they all decided it was time to leave too, it was close to two a.m. Chatting amongst themselves they made their way out onto the street as a group. "Should we go for coffee?", suggested Marius. The others agreed, except for Eponine who hung back.

"I think I'm going to go, guys. See you tomorrow?" she said.

"I am too. I'm going to escort Eponine home", said Enjolras. Ignoring the knowing smiles from the others they said their farewells again and hailed the closest cab, despite her apartment being only three blocks away.

As they got in, he paused for moment, taking her in with his dark blue eyes. "Let's get out of here", he replied huskily.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N**: This chapter contains an extended scene that many of you have been asking for, judging from my PM's. In writing it, I knew it might take the story into M-rated territory. The scene is not meant to be gratuitous. I think when two people have been through so much, and when both have shown hesitancy to love in any way, that when they finally do, that moment is filled with an incredible amount of passion and beautiful intimacy. Also, one more note; I've noticed that sometimes writers lose their mojo after scenes like this. Fear not, dear reader there is more to play out in this story.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**THANK YOU:** To the following fanfic gals who have been following this since it began and providing me with some insightful feedback: stagepageandscreen, frustratedstudent, tinmiss1939, and Nalurah.

**Songs listened to:  
**  
_'Ready for Love'_ by Bad Company – I highly recommend listening to get the mood of this chapter.

_Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted._

* * *

**Chapter 26  
**

_Walkin' down this rocky road  
Wondering where my life is leadin'  
Rollin' on to the bitter end  
Finding out along the way  
What it takes to keep love living  
You should know how it feels, my friend  
__  
__Ooh, I want you to stay  
Ooh, I want you today  
__  
__I'm ready for love  
Oh baby, I'm ready for love  
Ready for love  
Oh baby, I'm ready for love  
__  
__Now I'm on my feet again  
Better things are bound to happen  
All my dues surely must be paid  
Many miles and many tears  
Times were hard but now they're changing  
You should know that I'm not afraid_

_Ooh, I want you to stay_  
_Ooh, I want you today_

_ - Bad Company, "Ready for Love"_

The three long New York blocks to Eponine's apartment had never seemed further away.

The full autumn moon hung lazily in the dark night as the cab pulled up in front of Eponine's apartment. After paying the driver, they made their way up the stoop to her apartment. Opening the door, she held his hand as they walked inside. As soon as she had locked it, he put his hands on her hips and pressed her up against the back of the door, nuzzling into her neck. Enjoying the closeness for a few minutes, she suddenly pulled away.

In the darkness he was startled by her leaning up and brushing her lips against his. Before he could respond she had moved again. A few feet away he heard the scratch of a match head as Eponine lit several candles around the living room.

Walking slowly around the coffee table she came to a full stop in front of him. In the candlelight, her eyes had taken on a golden glow and her hair was like a burnished halo around her face. Leaning up on tip-toe she brushed his cheek with her lips.

"Could you help me with my dress?" she asked, and without waiting for a reply, she turned so her back was to him.

He hesitated, unsure what she wanted. In front of him, he saw a tremor run through Eponine's body whether from being nervous or cold he didn't know. Standing behind her, Enjolras rubbed her arms reassuringly. After a pause Eponine heard the zing of the metal as he slowly unzipped the dress, and a loosening of the material as it parted.

The room was silent apart from their breathing and the occasional crackle of wax from the candles. Enjolras was still, mesmerised by the sight of her bare, pale olive skin beneath the dress. His fingers still lingered by the zip and he accidentally grazed her spine. She shivered at the touch, turning around holding the dress to her body.

Hypnotized, he watched in the flickering light as she allowed the left shoulder of her dress to fall, revealing the red scar of her surgery to him. The sight of her beautiful bare skin and the harsh, angry mark upon it rendered him into further silence. And still he could not take his eyes away from her.

She looked down to her shoulder, and the thick line of stitches. "I'm damaged" she said simply.

"We all are", he said, his voice low in the darkened room as he gently traced the area around the scar with his thumb. He tilted her chin so she was looking at him, stroking her cheek.

"This isn't my only wound. I have others, inside, that might never heal", she responded, her voice shaking as she looked into his dark blue eyes, made darker as they adjusted to the dim candlelight.

He reached up and removed the pin from her hair, letting the waves fall to her shoulders. "Our imperfections are what make us interesting".

"I love you", she said, "I didn't have a chance to tell you before. Enjolras..?" she said hesitantly, "Do you still want me…after everything?" she said.

"More", he said placing his hands on her hips, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"What do _you_ want, 'Ponine?"

Pulling him down to her, she kissed him, pushing him backwards towards the bedroom, kicking off her shoes as she went.

"Wait…wait a minute", Enjolras said, pulling away as they stood in the hallway. He was fumbling for something in his pocket, and eventually pulled out a Swiss Army Knife.

"You just carry one of those around _with_ you?" asked Eponine, leaning on her doorframe.

"You don't expect a revolutionary to walk around unprepared do you?" he said, looking for the screwdriver tool. Giving her a sly grin he walked back up the hall to the intercom.

"What the hell are you doing?" she said.

"I need to have a chat with your intercom. After last time, we don't need to be interrupted", he said, laughing. He unscrewed the cover and pulled out the offending wire victoriously.

Eponine was laughing too as he made his way back up the hall to her.

He suddenly scooped her up, putting her over his shoulder. "Now, where were we?" She laughed as he galloped into her room before dropping her onto the bed.

Kneeling over her as she lay amongst the thick quilt, he slid her dress off her, throwing it on the floor beside them. Unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it aside, he leaned down and kissed her, somehow maintaining the contact while he took his suit pants off leaving him only in his boxers, through which his need for her was obvious. Instinctively she reached to touch him before pausing in mid-air. Sensing her nervousness he took her hand, helping her to stroke him and making him groan.

Taking her hands away he helped her to sit up before taking off her bra, laying her back down in front of him.

"You're beautiful", he said, trailing kisses over her collarbone and made his way down her body, kissing her breasts. Above him, Eponine all but stopped breathing. He stopped as he felt her tense up.

Looking up at her, he suddenly realised why, "'Ponine, is this your first time?" he asked her quietly.

"Well no, I mean yes…I mean I've done other things…but um…_no…_ not the whole nine yards". She was blushing.

"We can stop", he said.

"I don't want to stop".

"I'll take it slow; we don't have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, ok?" She nodded and he kissed her deeply before continuing his trail of kisses down her belly.

She breathed in sharply as she felt his curls brush past her belly button as he moved along her body. "Trust me?" he asked looking up through heavy lids.

"Yes".

Placing gentle kisses down her lower stomach and along the rim of her underwear, he felt her inhale with expectation as he pulled the material aside and kissed along the outer edges of her bikini line, his hot breath on her skin leaving her wanting more. Looking up to ensure she was watching him, he pressed his lips to hers, using his tongue to gently part them before tasting her for the first time. The heady musk of her fragrance hardened him again instantly, making him groan into her and she arched her back in response.

Sliding his hands behind her, he gripped her hips and pulled her further into him. His tongue had found its rhythm, licking every fold repeatedly before encircling the bud and softly, slowly sucking.

"Enjolras", she whispered into the pillow. "Are you alright?" he asked, pausing.

"Yes, please don't stop", she moaned.

In response, he kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and Eponine felt a gentle but exquisite pleasure as she felt him place a finger inside her, moving slowly back and forth. After a few moments of watching her, he resumed pleasuring her with his mouth, never taking his hand away but increasing the rhythm.

The taste of her and the sound of her furtive moans and ragged breathing was driving him into his own ecstasy. He brought her to what he thought was her limit, then lifted himself up to kiss her, gently parting her legs and placing himself between them.

"I love you", he said, grasping her hand.

"I love you too".

Slowly and deliberately he started moving in and out of her wanting her to feel every part him, and wanting to savour this moment with her. Eponine soon began to move against him too, wrapping her legs around him, her hands tightly gripping his shoulders, her whole body radiating desire for him. She felt a flash of heat and pleasure, then another and another, followed shortly after by Enjolras who had his own violent release, collapsing on top of her, breathless, kissing her neck.

Eponine kissed the curls of his hair, running her hands along his back, content to be in his arms. Rolling her onto her side, he nuzzled into her neck, wrapping his arms around her protectively. And staying there, they drifted into a dreamless sleep, wrapped tightly around each other.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N**: In the aftermath of such a close encounter, what happens? Awkward conversations, getting to know each other – the beginnings of a new experience for both of them. We see a small glimpse of canon Enjolras in this chapter. Also, where is Montparnasse? Has he fled the state with his cohorts? Is he done with Eponine?

**Curious note**: When researching coffee shops in Eponine's area, I found Third Rail Coffee and looked for reviews on the Yelp site. Apparently they play great music, and in the photo section, the café had an "Occupy Third Rail" blackboard out the front which I found highly amusing and pertinent. It's still on the site if you want to look

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**  
_'Chances'_ by Five for Fighting

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 27**

_Chances are when said and done  
Who'll be the lucky ones who make it all the way?  
Though you say I could be your answer  
Nothing lasts forever no matter how it feels today_

_Chances are we'll find a new equation_  
_Chances roll away from me_  
_Chances are all they hope to be_

_Don't get me wrong I'd never say never_  
_'Cause though love can change the weather_  
_No act of God can pull me away from you_

_I'm just a realistic man, a bottle filled with shells and sand_  
_Afraid to love beyond what I can lose when it comes to you_  
_And though I see us through, yeah_

_Chances are we'll find two destinations_  
_Chances roll away from me_  
_Still chances are more than expectations_  
_The possibilities over me_

_It's a fight with two to one, lay your money on the sun_  
_Until you crash what have you done? Is there a better bet than love?_  
_What you are is what you breathe, you gotta cry before you sing_

_Chances, chances_  
_Chances lost are hope's torn up pages_  
_Maybe this time_

_Chances are we'll be the combination_  
_Chances come and carry me_  
_Chances are waiting to be taken, and I can see_

_Chances are the fascinations_  
_Chances won't escape from me_  
_Chances are only what we make them and all I need_

Enjolras woke as the sun came streaming through the parted curtains. For a moment he forgot where he was until he heard the light breathing coming from beside him, and the hand rested on his bare chest. He looked over to Eponine sleeping soundly next to him, her hair fanned out on the pillow. Her eyes were closed in peaceful sleep, her dark lashes catching the sun.

He pondered for a moment how this had come to pass. He had never been romantically inclined, though he saw admirable qualities in both men _and_ women, but none had lit the fire in him like her. No one had even come close. Normally, talk of intimacy or even love scenes in a movie had him rolling his eyes. And that was still true, but _this_ was his; she had a place in that part of his heart he'd put away, thinking it unnecessary. His only passion had been the cause. For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of fear that somehow his dedication to his beliefs would be tested by the relationship_. No, don't kill it before it's begun._

He rolled over to look at her. _How did you get in? She doesn't embody the cause, she is the cause – that's been her life. She's not a revolution. That's not it. What then? No, not a revolution – a revelation. She's a survivor. She's had all the odds stacked against her, and she won. And she kept her heart, the most tender of hearts, that she protected so fiercely, and she'd fought her way into his. She was real, raw – this was no fantasy._

"What are you thinking about over there, Mr Serious?" said a sleepy voice.

"Coffee. Breakfast", he said.

'Not how glamorous I look in the morning, then?"

"You", he said pulling her over to him, "Look very…..edible", he said taking a peek under the blanket at her still naked form.

"Get out of here", she responded playfully, pushing him away. Rolling back to him, she was suddenly serious. "Enj, we have to talk about something. We weren't very..._careful_ last night".

He froze. "Shit, I'm sorry. I was unprepared and – "

"Sshhh….that's not what I mean, I mean it is but we're ok, I'm pretty sure. This is probably too much information but I'm on the pill to help me regulate my periods. I was so thin for a long time that sometimes I just didn't get them. So as far as birth control, we're ok. It's just that, in this day and age, a condom is probably a good thing". When she'd finished he looked over. Sure enough Enjolras' face was bright red.

"Enjolras, come on, you can't be embarrassed about this after last night, what we did, what you did to me... _Are_ you?_ I'm_ the inexperienced one."

"No, I'm not. I feel rather foolish that's all. I don't know why it didn't cross my mind."

"Well if we're going to make love again…"

"Oh we _are_".

"Well…let's get it out of the way and we don't have to talk about it again. How many people have you been intimate with?"

"Gah!" he said burying his face in the pillow. "You want to have the "number chat" before breakfast?" He looked over. Eponine was eyeing him, one eyebrow raised.

"Fine. Alright. It's not a very scintillating story. When I was sixteen it was trendy among my father's set of wealthy Manhattan-ite friends to take their sons to upper-class brothels for their first time, if they hadn't already um…popped their cherry. So, much to my disgust I too, was sent along several times to this place where a lovely woman named Marie fucked my brains out and taught me all about the ways of pleasuring a woman. After that…when it was of my own volition… a girl I met at a rally who I dated for two weeks, and one other time I got really drunk which I rarely do and slept with a fan of the band. Happy?"

"Well..it's good to know", replied Eponine. Her mind was caught up between being disgusted with Enjolras' father and curious as to what else "Marie" might have taught him.

"And you? ...I mean I don't want to pry, but you're an attractive girl, you must have been hit on all the time at the club…have you never wanted to…get close with someone?"

"Me?" she replied her face darkening. "There _has_ been a few times where I thought I might…but every time I got close I thought of my parents and what they had been trying to do with me - sell my body, and I rebelled by _not_ having sex. Go figure. So apart from some teenage groping in the dark and getting to third base I haven't been with anyone else, Montparnasse doesn't count". She said the last part before she realised the words had left her mouth.

"What do you mean, Montparnasse? You? He?...I don't underst-"

"Stop. Just stop. I didn't lie to you". She took a deep breath. "Montparnasse assaulted me… I mean, it wasn't intercourse. But he...he…with his hand… even though I told him no". Instantly she saw the fury in his eyes.

"That filthy _bastard_, I'll kill him. I swear I'll kill him". Enjolras was caught up in the sheets kneeling on the bed; a vision of pure anger. He wasn't shouting, his voice was frighteningly calm.

"Are you mad with _me_? She asked quietly.

Seeing her crestfallen face, his anger fell away. He reached over and hugged her to him furiously. "God, I'm sorry. No, I'm not angry with you. But I'm serious Eponine, I will never let anyone hurt you again, and if that murderer ever shows his face, I _will_ kill him".

"Hey", she said, reaching up, touching her hands to his chest, trying to calm him, "He's long gone, the police will catch him for what he did at the rally. What he did to _me_ is in the past and _this",_ she said gesturing between "was nothing like that. It was everything I wanted", she said leaning over to kiss him.

"Alright. It's the very thought of him...What do we do now?", he said, still trying to recover, breathing deeply.

"Us? Why don't we see where it takes us? No labels, ok?" She said.

"I was actually talking about breakfast'" he said, ruffling her hair, "But I agree, let's define _this_ ourselves".

* * *

After getting showered and dressed, with Enjolras again borrowing an oversized t-shirt from Eponine, they decided to head out for coffee. Eponine was wearing a knitted tunic and leggings with boots, her hair loose. Enjolras had his rumpled suit on, with her t-shirt underneath.

As they made their way to her local coffee spot - Third Rail Coffee - they walked side by side along the footpaths. As they crossed the street, Enjolras took her hand in his, and didn't let go. _How odd this feels, and yet so right_, pondered Eponine.

Next to her, Enjolras was having similar thoughts_. She doesn't belong to me, and yet she's mine_. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, earning a smile from her.

After ordering their coffees; double shot espresso for him and a skinny cappuccino for Eponine, Enjolras went and sat down beside her at the window seat she'd chosen. Eponine looked deep in thought.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked.

"Actually I was thinking about going to the bakery and reconnecting with my contact there, Michael. He gives me the loaves of bread that don't sell, for really cheap – that's how I can afford to make sandwiches for the needy. Do you want to come with me?"

"Yeah, sure", he replied. There was something warming about her letting him into her life.

"Eponine have you thought about what you're going to do? Are you going to go back to work at the Musain?" he asked, reaching for a copy of the Village Voice.

"You know, I was just thinking about that. I have an idea. Do you think you could help me write a business plan?"

"Yes, what for?"

'Well, I was thinking of approaching Valjean for a grant. He subsidises charities and food redistributors, yes?"

"He does. Are you thinking of starting your own?" He looked at her admiringly.

"Yeah, I think I could do it. There's not enough of it going on in this area, otherwise there'd be no need for me to make my little sandwiches. I was thinking of starting with a truck or two, and using my contacts from the shelters to act as a connect for these people. In the meantime until I know if it's happening or not I'll still work at The Musain".

He sat back in his seat, having a sip of his coffee. "I couldn't imagine anyone better suited. In fact I think its inspired thinking. I'd be happy to help you with the business plan".

Eponine knew he didn't give out praise lightly so she took it as a sign of confidence in her_. Is that was love was?_

"What about you Enj? How are you going to get by? Are you going to start playing with Les Amis again?"

"I have some money from a trust account, and I live frugally but I can't just sit idle. I'm going to start Les Amis again but we need to replace Courfeyrac and that will be difficult. I can try and find some contract work in a legal office in the interim. And I have to find somewhere to live. 'Ferre is great but his place is at the other end of town from yours".

She smiled at the thought of him taking the distance from her into consideration.

"Well, my original offer still stands you know? You can bunk at my place till you find something. Don't answer now. Chew on it for a bit".

"Hmmmm…" he said in response, looking at her over the top of the Village Voice. "I'm not easy to live with, just ask 'Ferre".

"Whatever – the offer is out there, let me know whenever", she smiled, warming her hands on the coffee mug before taking another drink.

He found the companionship in their conversation reassuring. _I don't have to change. I just have to let her in._

They sat together by the window for another hour, making plans, both of them finally seeing a ray of hope beginning to dawn.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N**: Regrouping. Figuring out relationships. Evolving, finding space for another. These are themes for both the band and Enjolras/Eponine in this chapter.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**  
_'Different Worlds_' by Jes Hudak

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 28**

_Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions."  
_― Anaïs Nin, Henry And June

_I've been out on the ocean_  
_Sailing alone, travelling nowhere_  
_You've been running on hard ground_  
_With just you around, your heartbeat's the only sound._

_But I know, once in a while we would find_  
_The sound of your heart beats with mine_  
_And when it's time_  
_I'll leave the ocean behind_

_ So I'll look out for a lighthouse_  
_See through the fog, Search the horizon_  
_You'll be like in a movie_  
_Where everything stops; You can see clearly now_

_- Jes Hudak, 'Different Worlds'_

A week and a half went by and Enjolras and Eponine began to fall into a familiar pattern. He stayed with her every second night, dropping into The Musain at the end of her shift to walk her home or meeting her at the apartment after spending time with Les Ami. They'd discuss their future in regards to work, before he would spend the night at Combeferre's. The next day they'd go for coffee to discuss their plans. He had said no more to her about her offer to move in.

Eponine had taken the advice of Sam and had begun working again at The Musain, albeit in a smaller capacity, at least for the first week to ease her way back in. She found herself frequently looking over to the place where Grantaire usually stood, expecting to find him there. Sometimes tears would try to surface but she would swallow them, blinking hard to usher them away.

She still had her studies, and any other spare time was spent drafting her business proposal to Valjean. She hadn't yet shown it to Enjolras. She wanted it to be complete, and if truth be told she was a little in awe of his intellect, so she wanted to make certain she'd done enough work herself before presenting it to him to assess.

Her relationship with Enjolras was still forming – it was both a source of comfort and a puzzle to her. They hadn't been intimate again since the first time, but he cuddled her in bed, and was not sparing in his kisses. There was no doubt of the attraction between them. She could feel it in the slightest touch.

When they were out in public he was more discreet, still holding her hand but went no further in his displays of affection, which if Eponine was honest with herself she was relieved of. She'd often made fun of couples that were fond of over the top displays, and yet at the start of another week without further intimacy, she found her mind turning to other things, slightly dismayed.

* * *

Enjolras was sitting on Eponine's couch, reading the paper and watching the television whilst scrawling notes on a large pad. He wrote with the same flourish with which he spoke, the words flying out onto the paper as quickly as the thoughts entered his head.

Looking at him by the table, his lips caught in the familiar but enticing pout as he concentrated on the evening news, she couldn't help but wonder what else his time with Marie had taught him.

Sensing her watching him he looked up. Cocking his head to the side, he caught her eyes. "What is it?

"I was just wondering about Marie".

"Marie? Ohhhh..._that _Marie. What of her?"

"Nothing, really" she said biting her lip. "I was just curious about the makeup of her tuition".

"I beg your pardon?"

"Were the lessons structured? What else did you learn – were there tests?"

He chuckled darkly. "No, there were no tests. Is there something specific you wanted to ask?" he asked regarding her with his dark blue eyes.

"No…I-I was just thinking about it". He watched her bemusedly as she absentmindedly knocked over the water bottle on the table, spilling half of it on the floor.

"Bugger!" she said, soaking up the spill with a nearby tea towel, then wiping her hands on her jeans. The frustration and the confusion boiled up inside her.

"I need a hot shower", she declared.

"I'll be here", he called after her as she walked down the hallway, continuing his train of thoughts on the notepad, oblivious.

* * *

After a restless sleep again that night, Eponine got up in a decidedly bad mood. She left Enjolras sleeping in her bed, looking as perfectly dishevelled as always which only annoyed and added to her growing sexual frustration even more.

Stomping out to the kitchen in her t-shirt and leggings, she made herself a cup of coffee, opening the windows to view the world outside, as she sat on the sofa. _Are all relationships so complicated? But this isn't complicated, is it?_ _Enjolras and I are sexually compatible – aren't we?_ Yes, she was sure of it. _But this was the 'honeymoon' phase. Isn't that what it's called? Shouldn't we be going at it, day and night?_ The passion had been unmistakeable and was the very reason she craved more of it. Still, what was the reason for his pulling away from her in this facet of the relationship?

She turned off her stream of thoughts as she heard him grumble, and the floorboards squeaked as he got out of the bed. Wearing a white Hanes tee shirt and his boxers he strolled casually up the hall, ruffling his messy hair.

"I smell coffee?" he said, making his way over to where she sat and leaning over to kiss her on the head.

Eponine remained silent, pointing her hand at the kettle and the counter where she had put a cup for him and some coffee granules in the bottom.

Used to her being more talkative, he looked over to her. "Did you sleep alright?"

"No, I did not", she said tersely.

"Hmmm…maybe cut down on the coffee?" he said.

"Maybe. Hey, I have to work late tonight, do you think we can give it a miss? I'm sure Combeferre misses your company". She knew she was being petulant, and that she should just talk to him which would normally be her style, but the thought of him being in her bed again tonight was too much.

"Sure", he said, suddenly stopping to fully appreciate her words. _What's going on here? I thought everything was going well. _"Are you ok?" he asked her.

"I'm fine", she shot back.

"Wasn't it you yourself who told me that if a woman says everything is fine you should start worrying?"

"That's an urban myth".

"Is it? Because you seem to have a bee in your bonnet, quite frankly", he said, walking around the bench to stand in front of her.

"Oh really? Because I want us to have one night apart?"

He took a step closer. "'Ponine this is me, you can talk to me".

She exhaled. "I'm fine Enj, ok? Really. We can meet up for lunch again like normal tomorrow".

"Alright". He remained unconvinced but let it be.

About an hour later, they got dressed and left the house to their destinations; Eponine to the library to study before her shift at the club and Enjolras uptown, to meet with the rest of the band.

* * *

Later that afternoon at Combeferre's apartment, Enjolras, Feuilly, Marius, Jehan and of course, Combeferre were gathered around the table discussing Valjean. He was away on the West Coast, stirring up support for the cause there but on his return he had indicated to Enjolras in a text that he wanted to meet with the band and make some firm plans for spreading the cause, even internationally. Realising what that meant, the band had begun discussing how to audition a new keyboard player for the group.

"Do we think it's a necessity that they share our political beliefs?" asked Feuilly.

"Of course" shot back Combeferre. "This is not just a band. We all know that".

"Well, that narrows down the field somewhat", said Jehan. "How many liberal, pro-Occupy, political keyboard players are there in New York City that will fit with the band ethos, our personalities and have the technical proficiency that 'Courf had?"

"No-one will take the place of Courfeyrac", offered Marius.

"And we don't _want_ them too. Everything's changed, the band has changed. We're not looking for a new Courfeyrac – please try and remember that", said Enjolras, lightly scolding him. "We're looking for a new _keyboard_ player but they have to at least have similar beliefs and an understanding of the movement. Agreed?"

They all nodded their head in agreement.

'Well it's going to be about where we advertise as to who we get. We need to be smart about this", said Combeferre.

Enjolras rubbed a hand on his chin. "We can ask Eponine to put up some signs in The Musain, and does anyone know if the Village Voice still has a free advertorial section?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah, I think so", said Marius. 'I can check".

"Good. We need to get onto these auditions in the coming week, and starting putting the new keyboard player through their paces. Valjean wants to keep up momentum for the movement which means as soon as he's back in New York we're going to have to get straight into it again."

"Let's take a break," Feuilly said." I need something to eat. Have you got any food in the house 'Ferre?"

"Yeah man, I just went shopping, help yourself". While they busied themselves with eating, Enjolras caught Jehan's attention and motioned to him that he needed to talk to him, nodding his head in the direction of the balcony.

When they were both there, Enjolras pulled the sliding door closed. Jehan crossed his arms over his chest, looking at him quizzically.

"What is it, Enjolras?"

"I need some advice".

"From _me_?" He knew he was valued in the group, but was also realistically aware he was not normally the first port of call for Enjolras.

"It's of a personal nature", replied Enjolras, leaning on the balcony, looking down onto the street. _I wonder what Eponine is doing?_

"Oh, this is going to be good", said Jehan. "How's Eponine?"

"How did you know it was about her?"

Jehan laughed. "Fearless leader, it's written all over your face. So, what happened?"

"Nothing".

"Nothing?" replied Jehan. "Enjolras, it's hardly nothing if you're out here looking for advice".

"Well I honestly don't know. Things have been good, great even. I really enjoy spending time with her, I find her refreshing, and um…the affectionate side of the relationship has been a learning curve".

"How's that going. Have you made love?" he asked directly. There was a long pause as Enjolras stood silent with his hands in his pockets. He was unsurprised when Enjolras only grunted in response. Then said more clearly, 'Yes".

"And did you fight over anything recently?"

"That's just it, no. And then she said everything was _fine_".

"Uh-oh. We know what that means. Ok, well, what was the last conversation you had with her before whatever it is happened?"

'Enjolras ran a hand through this hair. "Mmm.. last night. She asked me about Marie".

"You told her about _that?_" He was truly surprised how much Enjolras had appeared to share with Eponine. This was encouraging news.

"It came up".

"And what did she say?" Jehan suddenly began feeling like a love guru version of Sherlock Holmes.

"She wanted to know what we did, what the lessons were comprised of". Enjolras was now feeling well past his level of tolerable embarrassment.

"Oh my. And has this affected how you are…when intimate?"

"There's only been that one time". Jehan looked at him gobsmacked. How could Enjolras not see? The dichotomy of the intelligent, fearless leader and the naïve relationship partner was never more evident.

"Enjolras, did it ever occur to you that Eponine might want to learn more from _you_? As much as how the education with Marie came about, _you_ are the more experienced in this relationship because of it. And you are both young, this is normal. It's natural to be curious, at least it is for her".

"Well, I _have_ felt it", Enjolras replied, clearing has throat. "When we lie in bed – and you _cannot_ breathe a word of this to the others Jehan, swear it to me – I'm not sure how to initiate it again".

Jehan laughed, and patted him on the shoulder. "I swear. You love her that much is clear. Don't stress about it so much. But don't ignore it either".

"Revolutions are easier than relationships. Why can't it be like that?" said Enjolras.

"Because that would not be _at all_ romantic. Is Eponine a confusing issue for you?"

"Sometimes. But apart from Les Amis, she's the only thing I have faith in".

Jehan considered the depth of Enjolras' words for a moment. "Then let it be, you'll work it out – together".

Enjolras opened the door, where he saw the others had returned to the table with sandwiches and were waiting on them. "Hmmm", he said, "We'd best go in. We have a lot to get through. Thanks for the advice".

* * *

Eponine spent the rest of her day, both enjoying the solitude and occasionally wondering what Enjolras was up to. She sat at the library, writing down notes for an essay on rates of mental illness in the homeless. Despite the depressing subject, she found comfort in being surrounded by books and knowledge. Her home had been completely bereft of all reading material except the lowest form of gossip magazines and the remnants of her father's dirty magazines. Not exactly a breeding ground for literary knowledge.

Now, as she sat in the Brooklyn Public Library, she could smell the books - that familiar scent that only a library can provide. It was amazing to her that this one place could hold so much information. _Anything I want to learn, I can. _She mused what she would write a book about, if the opportunity presented itself_. 'The Dummies Guide to Pickpocketing?' _Or_ 'Starving in New York: Everything You Never Wanted to Know?'_

After writing for almost two hours, she looked at her watch. It was already four o'clock. Just enough time to get home and clean up before heading off to The Musain for her shift. She returned her books, and walked outside to the chill of the afternoon air.

As she walked home she thought about Enjolras. While she was concerned about the morning's events, she hoped that it was just a bump in the road. She didn't know how to broach the subject with him, or even if he would want to discuss it with her. She was sure he could feel the tension this morning.

A block from her apartment, Eponine felt a sense of déjà vu, specifically of being watched. Normally, she would have brushed it off but given the events of the past few weeks it made her nervous. When she finally got to her block, she paused. Taking a minute she turned and surveyed the street scene in front of her; a couple with a pram, and elderly man walking his dog. Across the road a group of schoolchildren were getting off a bus. Nothing looked out of place.

Taking one last look she shrugged her shoulders and made her way inside, still unable to fully shake the vague sense of unease.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N**: Thanks to all the new followers of the story, and to my trusty crew of regulars for reading and reviewing. In this chapter we continue on, and on the surface it seems as if nothing much is happening, but _below_ the surface we're building to see some new characters in the story and the continuing tangents playing alongside Eponine and Enjolras' relationship. This seems shorter than normal but never fear, the next one is underway. I had planned a lemon in the next chapter or so. Let me know if you want one. I've storyboarded it with and without.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**  
'Goodnight and Go' by Imogen Heap. I like this - it's hard to tell from what perspective this applies to the story, isn't it ;-)

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 29**

_Skipping beats, blushing cheeks I am struggling  
Daydreaming, bed scenes in the corner café  
And then I'm left in bits recovering tectonic tremblings  
You get me every time_

_Why d'ya have to be so cute?_  
_It's impossible to ignore you_  
_Must you make me laugh so much_  
_It's bad enough we get along so well_  
_Say goodnight and go_

_Follow you home, you've got your headphones on and you're dancing_  
_Got lucky, beautiful shot you taking everything off watch the curtains wide open_  
_Then you fall in the same routine flicking through the TV relaxed and reclining_  
_And you think you're alone..._

_Why d'ya have to be so cute?_  
_It's impossible to ignore you_  
_Must you make me laugh so much_  
_It's bad enough we get along so well_  
_Say goodnight and go_

_Say goodnight and go,  
why's it always always  
goodnight and go  
Darling not again  
Goodnight and go_

_ - Imogen Heap, 'Goodnight and Go'_

Les Amis had all crashed at Combeferre's apartment. All but Marius, who had gone to see Cosette. When Enjolras awoke, the typical tell-tale signs were there of them all spending time together…the jaffle maker still had melted cheese all over it, a few empty beer bottles were scattered on the counters, and the menu for Guitar Hero still appeared on the wide-screen television in the living room. He hadn't partaken in the boozing but could hardly begrudge the others even if he did feel it took away their focus.

They'd managed to work through a variety of issues, not only the need and specifications for their new member, but also planned to contact several media outlets that had wanted to speak with them previously at Zuccotti Park. Enjolras had been lined up for an interview with CNN at the time and they all thought maybe that was an avenue to push forward. Combeferre nominated himself to get in touch with the network to which the others agreed.

As Enjolras took in the mess of the kitchen, he turned at the sound of movement on the lounge – walking around the bench he came upon Feuilly laying spreadeagled with his mouth open and snoring like a proverbial freight train. Looking past him he saw Jehan sprawled on the oversized beanbag, also fast asleep. Grabbing the television remote, he turned on the morning news, forgetting to turn down the volume.

"And now for the morning's headlines", screamed the males newsreader, waking the two sleeping men in the room with a start.

'Shit!" yelled Feuilly, sitting up in fright.

"Shhh...my mistake . Look at this", replied Enjolras, pointing to the screen. On the television the scene at Zuccotti Park flashed for a brief moment before moving quickly to two photographs of men Enjolras had not seen before. The voiceover identified them as two criminals wanted in connection with the shootings. The men had been captured in Sante Fe, New Mexico, and were associates of Montparnasse whom they advised was still on the run. They issued a warning that he was dangerous and was not to be approached.

"He's probably gone to Mexico", said Enjolras vehemently.

"Surely you want him brought to justice?", said Combeferre, walking in behind him, scratching his chest and yawning as walked into the kitchen.

"I do. I want him caught and brought to the full measure of the law. As much as any of you. It can't happen soon enough. I just want him _gone_". Enjolras face had clouded over with anger.

Jehan had woken up and was now looking at Enjolras worriedly, overhearing the conversation. What had Courfeyrac once told him? _Enjolras was charming but capable of being terrible._

"I wonder if Eponine has seen this yet?" asked Feuilly, getting up from the sofa.

As if on cue, Enjolras' cell buzzed; a message from Eponine.

"_Meet at Wash Park by Arch instead of coffee? Bands playing. 1pm, I'll bring lunch? xx_

"I'm meeting with her today, we can talk about it then", said Enjolras as he texted her back.

"_Sounds great. Enj. xx"_

"Are you going to move in with her Enjolras or what?" asked Combeferre wickedly.

"Eager to get rid of me, 'Ferre?", he shot back across the counter.

"No, just eager to nudge you in the right direction, mate".

"Well, if you must know my mother sent me a text this morning, offering me the suite back. Apparently she's soothed my father's anger enough, and with me being injured, apparently I'm allowed back in. But that would mean compromising with them, and that's not on the cards".

"I think you're in less danger moving in with Eponine", said Combeferre slyly, "Than walking back into the lion's den of your parents combative relationship, don't you?"

"And Eponine's place is really cool Enj, have you seen that record collection?" asked Feuilly. "I covet that record collection".

"I'm beginning to think you like her more than me", retorted Enjolras.

Silence. Followed by another long pause. Then laughter as they all regarded his serious face.

"She's a tough cookie Enj, and she mucks in with the rest of us. I really do like her", said 'Ferre.

"And she puts up with you, so that works in her favour." laughed Feuilly, taking great delight in making Enjolras squirm.

"Screw you guys", he responded jokingly. "Hey, Marius is putting the ad in the Village Voice _today_ right? That means it will go to the online version straight away, and the hard copy in this week's edition. We might start getting calls this evening. You know it's being directed to your cell, 'Ferre. Keep it charged. We can start holding auditions at The Musain on Friday if the club is free, and we all need to be there. I wonder what motley crue we'll get?"

* * *

Eponine had had a busy morning. She'd gone to Downtown Hospital, keeping her appointment for a check-up with Dr Houseman who had removed her stitches. He was pleased with the progress of her healing and only instructed her to keep the area clean. In the course of her visit he also reminded her of her promise to attend the free psych counselling. Eponine had agreed but in her mind she was reticent – part of her felt that her healing had already begun and she was uneasy about unloading her problems to a complete stranger. Nevertheless, she had taken the card that Dr Houseman had given her and put it in her wallet.

As she made her way an hour later to Washington Park, she let her mind wander back to Enjolras. Apart from finally showing her essay to him she'd made up her mind to discuss their physical relationship that night. Exactly _how_ she was going to bring it up was another matter entirely, but she realised it had to be done to break the tension before it went any further.

Walking into Katz's Deli on East Houston Street, she was struck by the irony of her planned conversation with Enjolras and where she was; Katz's was the setting for the infamous scene in 'When Harry Met Sally'. _Yes, I'd like to have what she's having too_, she mused wryly.

Knowing Enjolras was a fully-fledged carnivore she ordered him a double chiliburger plus a matzo soup for herself, and two bottled waters. While she was standing at the counter waiting for her order she smelled something disturbingly familiar, an odd combination of stale cigar, alcohol and cinnamon. She froze at the realisation: _Montparnasse_. Shaking herself out of her paralysis, she craned her neck around the crowded deli. The counter crowd behind her was five deep, and all the tables were filled but there was no sign of him. _I'm going mad. I really do need those psych evaluation sessions._

"Thirty-five!"yelled the man at the counter, interrupting her thoughts. Passing her ticket over, she grabbed the two paper bags from him and headed quickly for the exit. After putting them in her satchel, she reached , grabbing her wallet and cell, searching for the card Dr Houseman had given her. Finding it, she added the number to her contacts as she walked, making a mental note to call the hospital tomorrow.

* * *

Enjolras was waiting for her by the Washington Arch, taking in the heat of the midday sun. He'd made some decisions of his own that day and they both involved Eponine, and he was nervously awaiting her reaction to both of them. Nerves weren't common for him. Normally he decided what he wanted to do and did it. No questions and no hesitation. Simple, affirmative action. _So why should this be different?_

As he was processing his thoughts, he saw Eponine on the other side of the road, wearing her familiar jeans, jacket and t-shirt outfit with boots. Her hair was pinned in a top knot._ She looks pretty formidable, _he thought to himself as he lifted his hand so she could see him.

As Eponine crossed the street she almost stopped dead in her tracks in the face of the approaching traffic. Enjolras had two large rucksacks and a backpack with him_. It's happening_.

"Hey there", he said, watching her eyes move over the bags. "I, uh, decided to take you up on your offer, if it's still valid that is?" Before he could say anything more, Eponine jumped on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, and kissing him.

He kissed her back, unable to help himself and laughed deeply into her hair. "I'm glad you're happy about it".

"It'll be great", she said lowering her legs. "I missed you in my bed you know". She still had her arms around him and let her hands play with his hair as she said it.

Enjolras felt heat run through him at her words. "I missed you too".

"What made your mind up?"

"Well I had another offer actually – my mother told me I could move back in to the hotel. And then 'Ferre told me you had their seal of approval, so after deciding all of my options, you won. By a long shot actually".

"I'm glad I got the brotherhood's seal of approval", she said laughing at the thought.

"Seriously if they had to choose between us, I fear they might be conflicted".

Eponine had turned her attention to the rucksacks. "I didn't even know you had this many clothes, Enj".

"Well there are clothes and notebooks, and my laptop, and some of my journals. And I seem to have acquired a lot of t-shirts and jeans in the past few years".

"We'll find space for them" replied Eponine, groaning as she picked up a rucksack and made her way to a sunny, grassy area. "Come on, I'm starving".

As they sat down, she pulled their lunches out of the satchel. "Be still my heart, is this a chiliburger from Katz's?" he asked, seeing the bags.

"Yup"

"Oh, this is the only kind of housewarming present I need", he said opening the bag and taking a huge bite.

"Hey, I've nearly finished my proposal for Valjean. Would you mind looking at it tonight for me?" she said opening her matzo soup and inhaling the delicious fumes.

"Are you working tonight?"

"No, not tonight. I'm still on a partial week".

"I think I should cook then. We never did get to do that before…" he realised what before meant and trailed off.

Eponine saw the look, and grabbing his hand she massaged it with hers, "Dinner sounds lovely, thank you".

"Did you see the news this morning?" he asked. She shook her head and he continued, "They got two of Montparnasse's accomplices 'Ponine. They got them in New Mexico. Apparently the police have them in custody but they're not co-operating yet about Montparnasse.

"Oh thank God", she said, the vehemence in her tone causing him to turn to her.

"Is everything ok"?

"I've been having this feeling of being watched, and I swear I could smell 'Parnasse at the deli. He wears this horrible cheap fragrance that smells like too sweet cinnamon. I expected to turn around and find him snarling at me", she shuddered at the thought and he hugged her to his side.

"I think he's long gone, I'm sure of it. But I'm a pretty good watchdog, just so you know", he said, giving her a grin.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N**: Revelations. Who was really behind Zuccotti Park? And what further repercussions are coming? Meanwhile we take a look inside Eponine's flat, examining in detail for a night how these two are going to make their relationship work.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'_Woke Up This Morning'_ by Alabama 3 – while writing for a certain incarcerated gentleman.

'_Fell in Love with a Girl'_ by The White Stripes

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 30**

_You woke up this morning  
Got yourself a gun,  
Your mama always said you'd be  
The Chosen One._

_She said: You're one in a million_  
_You've got to burn to shine,_  
_But you were born under a bad sign,_  
_With a blue moon in your eyes._

_When you woke up this morning_  
_All that love had gone,_  
_Your Papa never told you_  
_About right and wrong._

_But you're, but you're looking good, baby,_  
_I believe that you're feeling fine, (shame about it),_  
_Born under a bad sign_  
_With a blue moon in your eyes._

_Woke up this morning  
Woke up this morning  
Woke up this morning  
Got yourself a gun.  
Got yourself a gun.  
Got yourself a gun.  
_  
_ - Alabama 3, "Woke Up This Morning" (aka The Soprano's theme)_

In a cold jail cell upstate, a man who looked decades older than his actual years sat contemplating the bricks on the wall opposite him. At least that's how it would have appeared to anyone that happened upon him. He sat running over and over in his mind, the news that had filtered through his network of informers – both inmates and prison guards alike.

Montparnasse had failed him. He was only supposed to warn the girl, to frighten her enough to bring her back into the family, and to bring his son back to his mother. Instead, three people were dead and he knew his daughter would never return now of her own volition_. Ungrateful bitch. _Additionally the heat had been turned up on _him_. Repeatedly questioned by offices from the NYPD about the events in New York City, he was now under constant surveillance.

Aside from overseeing the usual jail-bound scams; a little trade in cigarettes here, a protection racket there, he'd been relatively well behaved and now this mess threatened to unravel his chances of an early release.

It wasn't the two recently captured members of the Patron-Minette that bothered him. Claquesous and Babet would be too scared of his wrath to reveal any details of his business. They knew how far his reach could stretch – even from behind the bars of a prison cell. Montparnasse was another story. Something must have happened. A clash with Eponine, some slight to enrage him. _Just like her to fuck everything up._ And Montparnasse had taken it personally and was now crazed, a wild card. One he could ill afford.

It was decided. When he spoke to his wife today he would get her to despatch two crews; one to Mexico and one to New York City. And so the man known as Thenardier made a decision: one way or another, this was going to end.

* * *

It might have only been three blocks away but both Eponine and Enjolras were smarting from the weight of the rucksacks by the time they arrived at her apartment.

Enjolras said he would unpack his things himself but Eponine was so delighted with his decision to move in that she brushed his offer away and quickly started making space for him. Lucky the owner of the apartment had been a believer in making the most of a small space – there were hidden cupboards and storage all over the house.

When Eponine opened the rucksack she had been carrying it was all she could do to stifle a laugh. Despite being packed in such free form bags, inside the clothes were all packed tightly and neat, like a display at The Gap. Thankfully his clothing was of a more eclectic nature. Lots of Henley and graphic print tees, G-Star hoodies, and Acne jeans, along with his collection of vintage leather jackets. She put the pile of shirts to her face, inhaling a vague scent of Enjolras as she placed the pile in a cupboard she had cleaned out.

Enjolras was currently in the living room, unpacking the other bag which contained more clothes and his shoes. Walking into the bedroom, he found Eponine bent down by the window, arranging some space for him on the dressing table there. Her shirt had risen up slightly and he found himself staring at the exposed area of skin by her hips. _It's been too long._

"Hey", she said, catching him out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey yourself. I was thinking of going out when I finish and getting some groceries for tonight. Did you want anything?"

"Nope. I'm good. So, I packed your shirts in here, and your pants here, and I've hung your jackets over there", she said pointing to the wardrobe.

"Wow". He took a look inside the closet, seeing her things hung with his, side by side.

"You still okay with this?" she asked, noting the expression on his face.

"Yeah, yeah I'm great with it. It's just different for me. But it's a good feeling", he said reaching for her hand, pulling her over to him.

"What are you making for dinner?" she said, planting a kiss on his lips.

"None of your business. It's a surprise" he said.

"Oh…a man of mystery".

"Always".

* * *

Enjolras was as good as his word. When he returned from his shopping expedition to the local whole foods market, he was laden with bags; probably containing more food than either of them would eat in a week on their limited budgets.

When Eponine saw the bags she almost scolded him. "It's a special occasion, my first time cooking for you and I thought I'd fill the house with groceries too, ok?" he said defiantly.

"Fine…what's in the bags?", she asked, leaning around the counter.

"Uh-uh…you're banished. No peeking until dinner is ready, ok? Put some music on or something."

"Jeez, you're bossy." she said jokingly.

"You do realise who you're living with, right?" he said, shooing her out of the kitchen with a tea towel.

Eponine walked into the living room, checking out the few cd's amongst her vinyl collection. Picking up favourite White Stripes album she put it on the deck. As the thumping opening chords of 'Fell in Love with a Girl' started playing, she started dancing around the living room. Enjolras was a fan too and as he was doing his prep for dinner, he nodded his head in time. Looking over to her, he grinned at the way she was able to let herself go so freely in the music_. That's my girl._

Soon the delicious aroma of tamarind, peanut oil and fresh cut limes was filling the kitchen. Enjolras had found an old wok and was busy searing prawns. With a flourish he added an egg, scrambling it on one side of the wok, and then he added rice noodles. Dishing it out onto a large plate, he added bean shoots and finely chopped peanuts. Calling Eponine to the table, she was amazed to find he'd set the little two seater she had with flowers from the market, and in the centre was a large steaming plate of traditional Pad Thai. Also on the table was a bottle of white wine and two glasses he'd managed to find.

"This looks _amazing_", she said as he gestured for her to sit down.

"Thanks, I learned to cook in Malaysia and Thailand".

"You've been there?"

"My father thought I needed to be seasoned, so I've travelled a bit to Asia and Africa, a few other places. And look at the monster he created". He said wryly, dishing out the meal onto her plate. "He thought they were places to be conquered through business, where I just saw a lot of imbalances. And now, I see them _here_".

"You know so much more than me… about _everything_", she said, then realising what she'd said hurriedly put a forkful of noodles in her mouth.

Pouring them both a glass of wine, he eyed her past the bottle. "Should we talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"'Ponine, do you think our lack of intimacy has escaped me? It's not you, it's _us_. This is about us figuring out how things work, ok? I don't know everything – because I might be well-travelled but _relationships _are not my forte'."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "It's been on my mind. But I'm glad you mentioned it. We'll work through it together, ok?" she said, raising her glass to him. "Let's have a toast?"

"To new beginnings?" he said, raising his as well.

"New beginnings".

After dinner and the cleaning up had been done, Eponine decided to jump in a hot shower while Enjolras read over her proposal. She was too nervous to be there while he perused it and anyway, she had something else in mind for the night.

She took her time in the shower, washing away the cares of the day. When she finally finished twenty minutes later, the bathroom resembled a steam room. She smiled to herself nervously as she dressed.

* * *

Eponine emerged from the bathroom dressed in a silky black negligee that skimmed her thighs, making the most of her petite but curvy figure. Her hair was loose, and she was barefoot. Walking out to the living room she had a surprise of her own waiting.

Enjolras had taken the quilt off the bed and moved the coffee table. The thick quilt was laying in an appealing manner on the floor, and he'd changed into his boxers and a Henley tee. The lights had been turned down, he'd lit a few candles, and he had turned the heat up in the room. He sat facing the hallway, his back against the two-seater lounge waiting for her to make an appearance.

"What are _you_ doing?" they both said simultaneously.

Then nothing. Enjolras couldn't speak or take his eyes off her. He'd never had a woman dress like this for him before. The effect and the intent left him speechless.

Eponine too was mute. He looked adorable and sexy and she realised how much care he'd taken with the blankets, the candles and the wine to make the atmosphere inviting.

"It seems we're of the same mind." said Enjolras finally, when he could make his vocal chords function.

Eponine laughed softly, "This is my other housewarming present - alongside the chiliburger. And you?"

"I've been remiss. I'm not that good at taking signals you know', he said. "This is my housewarming present to _you_. I thought perhaps you'd let me be your teacher…we could have some lessons".

"What kind of lessons?"

"The kind I learned from Marie", he cleared his throat, "Lessons about making love".

This was bold as fire coming from Enjolras. She stood rooted to the spot by his words until he reached out his hand to her. She took it and he brought her down to where he was, kneeling on the blanket. He kissed the palm of her hand, before pulling her closer to kiss her lips, letting his hands roam over her. The silky material felt good in his hands.

He pulled down the straps of her negligee' and bending his head down, he trailed his tongue down her chest before taking her breast in his mouth, sucking hard before grazing his teeth and tongue across her nipple. She gasped at the boldness of it.

"Did you think I didn't want you again?" he asked.

"No, I don't know…I wasn't sure", she responded breathlessly .

"Do you want me to say it?" he said, challenging her.

"No. I want you to show me", her eyes meeting his.

"Alright", he nodded. Enjolras stood up and as she watched he pulled his tee-shirt over his head, and then removed his boxers until he was standing naked in the middle of her living room. _He looks like the statue of David, no wonder I'm nervous._

"Just like last time, you can tell me to stop at any time, ok?" he said as he pulled her to her feet, before helping her take the negligee off so she too was naked. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in close, and the feel of them being completely naked, skin to skin was incredible to both of them.

Kneeling down again while she remained standing, he kissed every spare inch of skin he could find on his way down. Steadying her, he placed his hands on her hips, the nervousness from the first time fading away as she ached for him to touch her.

"Is this what you want, Eponine?" he said, parting her legs slowly, stroking her softly.

"Yes"

"Fast or slow?"

"Slow. Oh, oh God" she said as felt him again using his delicious tongue to ready her. Before she could catch her breath he slipped his tongue deep inside her. Reaching down she grasped his hair as he continued to make love to her with his mouth.

"Mmmm" he moaned, turned on by the obvious effect he was having on her. _What was I worried about? This feel so right._ Her legs were shaking as he continued to give her pleasure.

He looked up, and pulled her hipbones, making her kneel down with him, Enjolras sat flat on the floor, his feet stretched out in front of him, his back against the lounge. "I'm going to show _you_ how to be in control", he said pulling her over so she was straddling him, a leg on either side of his body. Pulling her in, he kissed her deeply. Realising what he meant her to do; she raised herself over him nervously. She gasped as she lowered herself on to the tip, then up again, causing him to groan. Slowly she lowered herself again, this time taking more of him. He didn't take his eyes off hers and held her tightly as she raised and lowered herself one last time, adjusting to take in his entire length.

They both groaned at the feeling. Eponine began to move against him, slowly at first, and he gave into her completely, only steadying her by gripping her hips with his hands.

Reaching up he kissed her breasts as she rocked back and forth, beads of sweat appearing on both their foreheads, his blonde curls sticking to his face.

Eponine slowed her pace; relishing the control he'd given her. Knowing how dominant he liked to be in other areas of his life and that willingly he'd given it to her - the power to bring him pleasure was an added aphrodisiac to her.

She leaned down and kissed him, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Looking into his eyes she started increasing the intensity again, making his eyes roll back into his head. He gripped her back tightly as she pressed into him. She rotated her hips as she continued. "_Fuck_" Enjolras cried, digging his hands into her back. "Lean forward a little 'Ponine", he gasped. As she did so she felt her centre explode as she was stimulated by the pressure against his base.

Both of them struggling to find breath, she relentlessly pushed herself against him, finally bringing both of them to climax. Rolling her over on to her back Enjolras continued to move in her, stimulating her at the same time with his hand, and bringing her to a second, harder orgasm.

"Now _that_ is a housewarming present", she said when she finally caught her breath again, causing both of them to laugh as they lay exhausted in the blankets, tangled in each other.

* * *

Later that night, a few minutes past midnight while Enjolras and Eponine were sleeping soundly and spent in her bed, a group of men arrived in New York City, pulling up in front of a cheap hotel. They piled out of the van, five in all. They each carried a backpack that carried clothing, handguns, money and an assortment of weapons. The leader carried a photo of Montparnasse and Eponine's last known address.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N**: Something wonderful happens in this chapter and I had the greatest time writing it, and imagining the scenario. A meeting of the minds, and the introduction of some old favourites. On the flip side (as always…I'm a Gemini, does it show?) the undercurrent of danger is very present, and increasing. There are also themes of fate, timing and destiny - Enjoy.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Brick"_ by Ben Folds Five

"_Hitchcock Railway"_ by Joe Cocker

– _Please_ give these a listen after you read the appropriate section you'll understand why they bring someone onboard.

Copyright for the songs in this chapter belongs to their respective owners as noted.

* * *

**Chapter 31**

_Two days later: Friday_

Eponine and Enjolras hadn't ventured outside for almost 48 hours. They'd remained in their own cocoon, cooking for each other, talking into the early morning hours about their lives. For Enjolras this was the first time in his life he'd shared himself so completely. Even to Les Amis who he considered the closest thing to a real family, his true brothers. He revealed the coldness of his parents attitude towards him, how the passion in his life had come from finding others with the same beliefs, the fundamental right to equality that drove him, how much each member of the band meant to him – things he had sealed off, even from himself. He talked of his travels and the discovery - even as a teenager – of the widening gap between his father's ideology and his own.

And Eponine reciprocated by sharing more of herself than ever before. She told him of her days as a pickpocket, a lookout for the gang and how her parents only cared for her when she was on a job for the gang. Eponine talked about her belief in the power of education, not just in the traditional sense but of the way she felt it had helped empower her, and raise her self-esteem. He listened to her intently as she spoke of the way she came to music, listening with a stolen pair of headphones and an iPod in the darkened corners of the "home" she'd shared with her parents. The music carried her away to somewhere better, or a songwriter tapped in to her sense of melancholy, or better yet someone wrote a melody that filled her with hope that better things might come her way.

They often held hands as they spoke, quietly, as the music they both loved played in the background. Other times Eponine would take a bath or sit quietly reading over her course notes while Enjolras wrote in his notebook ideas for the band or something he wanted to bring up with Valjean. He'd exchanged several texts with Combeferre and Jehan. There were already at least twenty candidates for the role of keyboard player in the band. Eponine had been in touch with Sam and The Musain was booked for the auditions. She'd asked for the two days off and he'd gladly given them to her. He knew she was committed to her work so the fact that she'd requested a time-out had been taken seriously.

And today, after waking late in the morning for a leisurely hour of sleepy love making, Eponine and Enjolras were now ensconced in her living room drinking coffee and eating breakfast while he went over the finer details of her business proposal to Valjean.

"This looks pretty solid to me, Eponine. A really good job. The only thing you need to do is clarify when you register the charity as a non-profit organisation that this will be a _private_ charity, given that the grant will be coming from an individual or foundation. If Valjean approves it you'll need to get the details from him so you can register for tax exemption. You'll come under the IRS classification of 'Relief of the poor, the distressed, or the underprivileged'. Really though, I think your application will be well received as there's an obvious gap in this neighbourhood, and you've stated your case with great passion and clarity"

"Thanks Enj'. It means a lot to me to hear you say that".

"I don't fluff ego's Eponine. I say it because it's the truth".

She smiled at him, "I know".

"We should get going pretty soon. You have to open up and the others are getting to The Musain at ten-thirty. Auditions are at eleven o'clock."

"I'm dressed, we can leave whenever you want. Are you anxious?" she said.

"No. It's just going to be hard doing this without prejudice, measuring someone up against Courf'."

"Just remember your own words – you're not replacing _him_ – just his function within the band. Ready to go?" she asked standing up, checking herself as she grabbed her bag. Rock tee, crumpled boyfriend jacket, black leggings and a mini skirt, and her boots. Looking over to Enjolras, she was vaguely annoyed at how effortlessly cool his outfit was. Deep maroon leather jacket, black v-neck sweater and black jeans with his trademark scuffed black boots.

"Yeah, let's go, we have a big day ahead", he replied, grabbing her hand as they walked out the door.

* * *

For those same two days a tall, hulking blonde had been lurking around The Musain, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of Eponine. Waiting on street corners, drinking coffee in the café's opposite the venue, but she had not come. He hadn't seen movement at her apartment either for two days, even though unknowingly to him she had been there all along. She had simply disappeared into the ether. They had unfinished business. He was a patient man, it was this trait that made him so dangerous… and she would show herself eventually. He pulled down the baseball cap on his head and made his way down the street.

* * *

Eponine may not have been noticed yet. But Montparnasse had. The men sent by Thenardier had spent the past 36 hours trying to find both of them and had finally hit the jackpot that morning, talking with Occupy groups who were still on the streets, encamped in Zuccotti Park and raising their protest signs on the pavements of the Financial District.

The group were not simple thugs. These were career criminals, chosen by Thenardier for their ability to blend into crowds and think on their feet. Their leader feigned shock at the rally shootings to a small group of friendly protesters. Hitting the target, they were followers of Les Amis and told him the band regularly played at The Musain in the Village. Leaving the scene immediately, they drove into the Village mid-morning. They circled the block several times and were about to find a place to park the van when he spotted the man in the window of the café' opposite the club. He stood out because while everyone else was animated, this gentleman kept his focus directly solely at the side and front entrance of the venue across the street. The group leader thought it odd but as he kept watching, the man he was observing turned his head to the side, accidentally pulling down the raised collar of his coat.

Taking a pair of binoculars from his co-passenger, he took a closer look at the same time pulling out the photography of Montparnasse in his possession. His hair was different, he'd obviously dyed it, but it was the same, angry tattoo etched up the side of his neck. They had him.

* * *

Eponine and Enjolras were around a hundred metres from the club when he felt it. He kept walking, holding her hand but all his senses were alerted. He scanned the crowd, taking a quick glance behind them. Nothing. Friday morning in the Village was a hustling, bustling affair. The cafés were crowded, the traffic hectic. He looked to the other side of the road. Again – nothing out of the ordinary.

Beside him, Eponine had felt his body tense. "What's up Enj?" She said.

"Either I'm feeling what you do by osmosis, or someone really is watching us. I _feel_ it. Just keep walking normally ok? We're almost to the club". He noticed her panicked expression and gave her a reassuring glance, squeezing her hand as they entered the alley where the staff entrance to the club was located.

He pulled out his cell on the way in, texting to the number of the Officer at the 5th Precinct that had taken everyone's statements. He'd asked the group to get in touch if they remembered anything that could help them make their case and given out his number to them. _Better paranoid than dead._

* * *

After opening up the club and doing some set-up, it wasn't long before the others began to arrive to join Eponine and Enjolras. They had agreed not to say anything to the others just yet , especially given they had nothing to go on.

"How's domestic bliss?" asked Combeferre on arrival, trailed behind by Feuilly and Jehan.

"Good Morning 'Ferre, how's things?" asked Eponine, cheekily ignoring his question as she turned on the stage lights in the back.

"Fine, good. I'm really ready to see what these auditions hold for us", he replied sensing he would get nowhere with his teasing.

"Where's Marius?" asked Enjolras approaching the table.

"He's coming", said Feuilly, "He wanted to print out the last of the CV's. He wasn't far behind us".

As if on cue, Marius walked through the door, out of breath. 'Sorry, sorry everyone. Am I very late? The printer broke down. I had to go to The Village Copier to get the rest of them done. I have copies for everyone", he said, pulling a file from his backpack.

"You're not late. Where is Cosette, Marius?" inquired Feuilly.

"She flew out to be with Valjean last night. They still have some reconnecting to do after his coming forward at the rally, understandably".

Eponine was at the door, looking outside. "Looks like most of them are here guys, how many did you say? Twenty or so?"

"Just give us a minute , 'Ponine. We need to get seated at the tables." said Enjolras. "Are we clear on the criteria?" he said as they gathered. "Don't forget, this isn't American Idol – we're not going to give immediate feedback. We need to see what they've got musically and then have a chat with them about their personal interest in the movement, ok?"

"Clear", agreed Combeferre. The others nodded as well.

"Alright, 'Ponine… let them in".

* * *

It had been _two hours_. Two exhausting, draining hours of auditions that promised much but delivered little. Either the musicians had all the technical proficiency but none of the heart required. Or they were _all_ heart but were tone deaf. They had encountered metal heads just looking for a job, a misplaced Doors enthusiast who mistook anarchy for activism, and several muso's who were more interested in finding out the story behind Zuccotti Park than really auditioning for the band. They'd had one decent audition from a studio muso based further upstate. He was still missing that certain something they were looking for but in desperation they took down his details, promising him a call that afternoon either way.

Enjolras sat at the table, rubbing his hands through this his hair in frustration. He looked over to Combeferre who shook his head. "We'll have to go again next week I think", he said to Enjolras.

"Are there any more left?" asked Marius.

"We've got two guys outside. I think that's it", said Eponine.

"Bring them both in. Let's get it over with" said Enjolras.

"Together?" she asked.

"Yeah, I don't think we're going to find anyone today. Whichever one auditions first, the other can sit at the back with you 'Ponine if that's alright?"

'It's fine. I'll get them". When she returned she had the two young men with her. The taller one looked familiar to Enjolras though he could not place him. The other one, slightly shorter looked like something of a bruiser and Enjolras noted his scuffed knuckles. As they walked to the table where the group sat the two were chatting amongst themselves.

"Do you two know each other?" asked Enjolras pointedly.

The taller one spoke first. "No, well... we met at the rally. Bahorel here assisted me with the injured."

As soon as his words were spoken, Enjolras had an immediate flashback. Through hazy eyes, he saw both of them, leaning over himself, Eponine and Grantaire on the stage. A vague, slow motion memory of Joly working on Eponine came to him.

"You. You were the first medic on the scene? Yes, I remember you".

"_You_ were the ones?" asked Eponine. "What are your names?"

The one named Joly nodded. "I am Joly. This is Bahorel. My only regret is that I was not of further help to your other friends. I heard about their fate on the news. I'm very sorry".

"Those of us who made it, owe you a great debt. But, forgive me... are you both here to audition for the group?" Enjolras asked, puzzled.

"I am" replied Joly.

"I am too, but not for the _band_ as such", said Bahorel.

"Continue" responded Combeferre, intrigued.

"You boys need a bodyguard, especially if you're moving forward in the movement. And not just because of what happened at the rally. This band is only going to get bigger, with a higher profile. I'm not shy of a fight, and I believe in the cause. You need me", he stated emphatically. Enjolras raised his eyebrows.

"The pay wouldn't be that great at the moment", he said. Despite himself he found he liked Bahorel immediately. "And we're about peace not confrontation".

"I'm not in it for the money. I want to help. This is the only way I can be of assistance, and I can help _keep_ the peace", Bahorel shot back.

Enjolras and Combeferre exchanged glances. Enjolras nodded. "Will you let us discuss it? You can stay for the audition if you wish", said Combeferre.

"Great", he said looking around, "can I get a beer?"

"I don't think Eponine is serving", said Enjolras.

"I've had a rough morning, and you know what they say:"

"_Plato, they say, could stick it away, half a crate of whiskey every day!  
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,  
And Hobbes was fond of his Dram.  
And René Descartes was a drunken fart:  
"I drink, therefore I am."  
Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;  
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed"._

"I beg your pardon? ", said Enjolras.

"It's Monty Python, Enjolras" said Jehan, chuckling.

"Monty Python", said Eponine softly, looking over to where Grantaire used to tend bar. _Are you still watching us G?_

Bahorel was looking at all of them, not quite sure what was going on.

"Boys, fate works via mysterious avenue, that's all I'll say. I'll get you a beer Bahorel. It's on the house" said Eponine, walking over to the bar.

Joly was at the stage, setting up the stool by the old piano by the rest of the house instruments. He settled in, shuffling on the seat and waited.

When Enjolras nodded to him to begin, the room was stunned into silence as he began playing. From the awkward looking guy on stage came the beautiful melancholy piano solo of Ben Fold's Five, 'Brick'. And he was _singing_. Not a perfect, great voice, but a raw emotive one.

"Oh my God" said Eponine, almost to herself.

"Jesus, I wouldn't have picked that to come out of _him_", said Bahorel next to her.

Enjolras, Combeferre, Jehan and Feuilly were exchanging looks all around the table. Jehan was smiling and Enjolras shook his head at him. _Don't show your hand, Jehan. Play it close_. As Joly played the final note, Enjolras was the first to speak. "That was wonderful, incredible even. Joly, you _do_ know this is a rock band though, is it possible for you to play something else for us?'

"Uh sure. I need your lead guitarist and drummer though, is that alright?"

Combeferre and Marius nodded, making their way up to the stage behind him. Joly turned and muttered something to them that the others could not hear, but they both seemed to understand him. Marius got himself comfortable at the drum kit and Combeferre picked up the guitar, tuning it before waiting for Joly's signal.

At the front of the stage Joly started playing the twinkling bluesy, honky tonk notes of Joe Cocker's 'Hitchcock Railway' before the others launched into it, accompanying him. Enjolras turned in his chair to see Eponine's reaction. Even though he himself was tapping his foot, he tried to suppress his smile when she gave him the thumbs up signal, doing a little standing boogie to the music. It was like they'd been playing together for years. And again, his voice was rough, but it had character. And his piano playing? Enjolras hadn't heard anything like it in years. And from the looks of everyone else, neither had they.

As the threesome kept playing Enjolras suddenly heard Eponine in his ear, on the premise of giving him a glass of water. "Sometimes Enjolras, the fates align", she whispered.

"I don't believe in fate, I believe in action", he said lowly.

"Then take action", she said, placing the bottle on the table and going back to where Bahorel stood. On the stage, the song had ended. Jehan had given his game away and was on his feet applauding, earning him a frown from Enjolras.

Enjolras asked that Bahorel and Joly wait by the front of the stage while the band had a quick meeting at the back. Eponine looked over to where they stood by the bar, huddled in a corner. Enjolras was all hands, talking expressively before Combeferre had his say, talking calmly in the middle. After another ten minutes of discussion, they returned asking both men to sit with them at their table.

"Joly, the band is a full-time commitment, as is medicine. Will there be a conflict for you if the band takes off?" asked Combeferre.

"I see no conflict. I'll continue to work and study at medicine, and if as you say the movement and the band – if I'm successful of course – need me, then I will simply give the band more time. You need balanced people in the movement, and I am one of those".

Combeferre nodded, as if satisfied with the answer.

Enjolras turned to Bahorel. "Bahorel, you _do_ know that this is, at heart, a peaceful movement, yes? Having said that, it seems that we may require a physical presence. Some brawn with brains if you will? However, we need to make certain that any actions you take will be defensive or only used if the band is in specific danger, ok? We'll need to get you some insurance as well and registered as our security officially".

Bahorel looked at them all for a moment before breaking out a grin. "So, we're in then right?"

Enjolras looked around at the group, pursing his lips into a partial smirk. "It would appear there than can be no other logical decision to make. You and Joly have been unanimously voted into Les Amis. Welcome brothers", he said reaching forward and shaking both of their hands firmly, as the other band members gave them congratulations as well.

* * *

The reverie was broken a few minutes later. The others were still laughing and chatting with Joly and Bahorel when Enjolras received a call on his cell. It was Detective O'Malley from the 5th Precinct. Taking the call he went to the back of the club to speak with the officer.

Upon his return five minutes later, he signalled to Eponine. Walking over to him, she immediately saw the stern expression on his face. "What is it, Enj?" she asked.

"I sent Officer O'Malley a text earlier about our suspicions of being watched. Anyhow, they _are _taking it seriously as they have no further leads on Montparnasse, but they can't just send a squad car to us based on feelings or a hunch. Only if we see Montparnasse or whoever it is can they do anything for us".

"We're on our own unless they try and do something?"

"Basically. But this case _is _a priority case for them Eponine, he made that clear. They'll send a car straight away if there's any trouble, ok?"

"Alright", she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She looked down to the bar where Les Amis, including its two newest members were sitting down engaged in a lively conversation. "I think you guys made a great decision today, Enj".

He followed her gaze. "I think we did too. Something about them just seems right, doesn't it?".

"Fated".

He looked at her, smiling. "Logical. Now, let's go join them".


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: **Apologies, this took a little longer than I expected. On the upside it's a slightly longer chapter than normal. Hope you like it – remember to review! It helps with the inspiration ;-)

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Born under a Bad Sign"_ by Cream  
_"If You Don't Know Me by Now"_ by Simply Red

* * *

**Chapter 31**

_Born under a bad sign.  
I've been down since I began to crawl.  
If it wasn't for bad luck,  
I wouldn't have no luck at all._

_Bad luck and trouble's my only friend,_  
_I've been down ever since I was ten._  
_Born under a bad sign._  
_I've been down since I began to crawl._  
_If it wasn't for bad luck,_  
_I wouldn't have no luck at all._

_You know, wine and women is all I crave._  
_A big bad woman's gonna carry me to my grave._  
_Born under a bad sign._  
_I've been down since I began to crawl._  
_If it wasn't for bad luck,_  
_I wouldn't have no luck at all._

_Bad luck and trouble's been my only friend,_  
_I've been down ever since I was ten._  
_Born under a bad sign._  
_I've been down since I began to crawl._  
_If it wasn't for bad luck,_  
_I wouldn't have no luck._  
_If it wasn't for real bad luck,_  
_I wouldn't have no luck at all._

_Born under a bad sign._  
_Born under a bad sign._

_'Born Under a Bad Sign' by Cream_

* * *

After accepting Joly and Bahorel in to Les Amis, the group had decided to go for coffee to get to know them better. They found Bahorel to be a jovial fellow with a story for every occasion. Enjolras was surprised to find however, how much he knew of the movement. Beneath his charming exterior he was passionate, and that sometimes gave rise to physical altercations to defend his beliefs – if his stories were anything to go by. He fit well amongst the group. Enjolras watched him at the table as he conversed with the others. They had clearly taken to him; Eponine in particular seemed enthralled with his sense of humour and outspokenness.

Joly, by contrast was a study in eccentricity. He was an affable young man, but Enjolras had a sneaking suspicion he was prone to hypochondria. During the course of their time at the café', Joly had asked both Enjolras and Eponine numerous times about their wounds, frequently reminding them they must keep the healing skin clean to avoid infection. As he spoke, he touched his head and shoulder as if it were _he_ that had been injured. When any of the group had asked him about his life in conversation, somewhere along the way he always went off into a tangent about an illness, real or imagined. But again, this was balanced out by his good nature. They were both good choices for the band, they fit in with the group and yet they were different enough to add something special to it.

Eponine sat with them all, looking around at them. In her earlier years she would have found being in such male dominated company intimidating, but no longer. In addition to Gavroche, she felt she now had found herself some extra brothers. They protected her and they listened to her. She missed Grantaire terribly but somehow being with the guys made it easier to bear, knowing they missed him as well as Courfeyrac. The grief and shared tragedy had bound them even closer. Even in Bahorel, she saw elements of him.

Though they sat on opposite sides of the table, Eponine felt Enjolras eyes flicker to her every so often, giving her a reassuring smile or a steady gaze that made her heart almost stop beating. _He loves me. And I don't need to hear the words to know it._

As the thought came to her mind, Joly suddenly jumped up. "I'm late!" he cried, looking at his watch.

"For what are you late?" asked Enjolras

"I..I have a date with Musichetta…it's my turn", the medic blustered.

"Your turn? Pray tell us _everything _Joly", laughed Combeferre.

"'Ferre! Mind your business", scolded Eponine.

"I would like to hear this too, actually", said Jehan, smirking at her.

"Well, Musichetta loves _two_ men. Myself and another. She's extraordinary. She's bright and well-read, and full of life", Joly gushed.

"How enlightened of you!" said Eponine, intrigued.

"We must meet them _both_!" said Jehan, looking at Eponine who nodded approvingly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"But…doesn't this arrangement bother you Joly?" she asked.

"If the man in question were anyone other than my friend, Boussuet? Perhaps. But Musichetta loves us equally, her heart is incredibly big – I simply cannot imagine life without either of them".

"Love is love. It comes in many forms" Jehan mused, looking pointedly at Enjolras who shrugged.

"As long as you're focused Joly, your personal affairs are just that. However if your friends are interested in the cause they are welcome to join us to discuss it with us", he said.

"And you Bahorel?" inquired Eponine.

"I am a single man, and I have enjoyed that", he said, smirking at her.

"Cheers to that", shot back Combeferre, laughing.

As they finished their coffee and made their way out of the café', Bahorel turned to Eponine.

"What about you?" he said.

"What about me?" she replied.

"Are you involved with anyone?"

"Well…I..yes…you see.." she said, turning her head to Enjolras who was watching with interest as he walked with Marius.

"Enjolras and Eponine are in deep smit. The deepest", laughed Feuilly. "Our fearless leader went and found himself a fearless woman".

"Feuilly!" hissed Enjolras. His private life was not for discussion.

"Come now Enj, we couldn't have picked a better one for you ourselves, and you know it", Feuilly said. Eponine found herself blushing at the implied compliment.

"Hey, how about dinner at my place tonight? We'll cook", said Eponine gesturing to herself and Enjolras, ignoring the scowl and shake of the head coming from him. He wanted her all to himself. He didn't know what the other feeling was in his stomach but it sat uncomfortably with him.

"Yeah", "Sounds great", "What time?" came the responses.

"What about eight o'clock?" she said and they all agreed. They chatted on the sidewalk for a few more minutes before departing, each with their own plans for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Enjolras caught up with her as she started along the road.

"Hey! What was that about?" he said.

She frowned, "What was _what_ about?"

"Inviting them over like that. You _can't_ cook".

"No, but _you_ can, and I can help", she smiled. "And besides, it won't kill you – these are your friends, are they not?"

"And what about Bahorel? He was flirting with you".

Eponine laughed. "He was _not_ flirting with me Enj, he was just being curious. And anyway, he's harmless. I like him, he's a rebel rouser. Rough with a heart of gold".

She turned to look at him as they came to the pedestrian crossing. He was almost scowling, a deep furrow had shown itself between his brows.

"Wait. Are you…..jealous?" The very thought that anyone could be envious of another showing _her _some attention was completely foreign.

"No", he replied a little too shortly.

"Hmm. Seems like it". She smiled to herself .She could feel him giving her a sidelong glance.

Seeing his opportunity as they made their way to the other side of the road, he pulled her by the hand into an alley. Once there he pressed her up against the wall, raising her hands above her head and passionately kissing her before pushing himself between her legs so she could feel his hardness. He kissed down her neck, leaving her breathless. She leaned her head back to give him better access, and he began kissing further down the vee of her shirt. Turning her head she saw the crowds walking past the alley in the street, forcing her back into reality with a jolt.

"Enjolras!" she scolded, putting her hands on his chest and lightly pushing him away. "It's broad daylight!"

Realising what he'd done, and been about to do he took a step back from her. Running a hand through his hair, he spoke roughly, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me".

Eponine was hastily adjusting her top, but couldn't help grinning. "I think you're a little possessive". She gave in and laughed, leaning over to ruffle his hair. "It's ok, I don't mind but you know…let's have some boundaries of common decency, alright?"

Enjolras was silent. Inside he was chiding himself. He _loathed _public displays and yet he'd wanted to have his way with her right there. He looked over to her. She was smiling at him still, and he smiled back shaking his head at himself. She was waiting on him to say something. "Shall we go home? It seems I have a lot of cooking to do for our guests", he finally announced.

* * *

Montparnasse had seen them leave The Musain, and had followed the group to the café'. And now, he'd followed Enjolras and Eponine down the street, seeing their little foray into the alley. His lip curled in disgust. _That whore!_ From the time she was a teenager Montparnasse had wanted her, only to be rebuffed time and time again. And now she was practically giving it away to the man he'd almost successfully killed. _All of this is her fault_, he thought. _She's taunting me. She was probably screwing him when I first saw her at The Musain. That dirty bitch!_

He let them leave the alley then followed as they made their way down the street obliviously. He maintained a good distance between them – he was almost at his goal and did not want to be discovered just as he was on the verge.

* * *

Unfortunately for Montparnasse, his tunnel vision on the couple gave him a blind spot. He too was being followed. There were three men behind him, and two on the other side of the street. They were clothed in non-descript outfits, blending in easily with the Friday afternoon crowd.

"What are we doing, Boss? We can take this guy at the next street. Stick a gun in his ribs and get him in the van", said the shorter man.

The taller man, the leader, spoke but did not turn his head as he walked. "Hardy, there's no finesse' in you at all is there? Before we take him, I want to find out where Thenardier's daughter lives - that's part of the plan. And I want to find out what happened at the rally. He was only supposed to warn her. Thenardier wants to know everything before we taken any action against either of them, ok? Now, be a good boy and do as you're told".

They continued on their mission, trailing Montparnasse as he followed the couple in front of him, finally stopping as the crowd petered out and they arrived at what he assume was either his or her apartment, walking up the stoop. They would wait until the cover of darkness gave them an advantage.

* * *

The apartment was alive with the sounds of chatter and music. On their limited budget, Enjolras had decided to cook up a large meal of pasta, and the kitchen practically floated on the delicious smells of fresh basil, roasted garlic and onion that were emanating from the room. The home was steamy and warm, made all the more so by the sounds of animated conversation in the room. Jehan and Marius had arrived with a bottle of red wine, and Combeferre and Feuilly had been of the same mind and had brought two bottles of white with them.

Enjolras in semi-domestic mode was a revelation to all of them. He still insisted on discussing politics and their plans but he was noticeably more relaxed, even giving Eponine a chaste kiss in front of them all as she handed him the bottles of wine, causing Marius to almost swallow his tongue in shock. He was also an efficient cook, and they'd been there no longer than thirty minutes when he announced dinner was ready. Putting a large pile of fettuccine in one bowl, he layered on a delicious basil pesto and some roasted vegetables. In another he served up traditional spaghetti with meatballs and roasted tomato over which he sprinkled freshly grated mozzarella cheese. Just as Feuilly was about to serve himself a plate they were interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

Enjolras and Eponine exchanged anxious glances as he went to answer it. "It's ok", he said to her, "It's only Joly and Bahorel". Jehan watched their conversation with a general unease. _What was that about?_

Enjolras opened the door to find Joly and Bahorel had not come alone. Behind them was a tall, very striking African-American man, and next to him was a short-ish woman with bright, sparkling eyes that looked capable of seeing deeper than others. _She's a quick study I bet_, he thought. Looking down he saw she was thrusting some flowers into his hand. He noted the smallness of her fingers.

"Thank you. Won't you all come in?" he said, taking the flowers and giving them to Eponine, who he introduced. "Joly, you've met Eponine and this is …Musichetta and Boussuet I believe?" They both nodded saying hello and moved over to the living room where everyone made their introductions.

"Let's eat before this gets cold, eh?" he said clapping his hands and getting everyone over to serve themselves.

* * *

It was a noisy, rowdy dinner. Enjolras had been embarrassed by the amount of compliments his cooking had garnered, but was thoroughly enjoying playing host with Eponine. During the course of the evening, she'd found herself gravitating towards Musichetta, who was as lively a girl as she had ever encountered. She was radiant, and was currently engaging Jehan in a discussion about Shakespearean soliloquys, while Boussuet and Joly chatted with Feuilly and Bahorel. Combeferre and Enjolras were in the kitchen talking about issues they needed to discuss with Valjean on his return. Opposite her, Eponine noticed that Marius was drinking more than his share of the wine. _He's probably just missing Cosette_, she thought.

"So", announced Enjolras from the kitchen, "We need to discuss a few things about the band moving forward". They all gravitated to the living room, holding their drinks and finding a place to sit either on the sofa or the floor, as Eponine turned the music down a little.

"I've done the deal with CNN", said Combeferre. "Next week, they're coming to talk with Enjolras about the band and the movement. Hopefully, Valjean will be back by then so they can interview him for it as well".

"Are you getting paid for it?" asked Feuilly.

"No. And I doubt I'd take any money anyway, if they offered. It's purely to get our story out there and push the movement", said Enjolras.

"They're going to ask about the shootings", Eponine said emphatically. "What will you say?"

"That it's an ongoing investigation, and as such I'm not at liberty to discuss it. I don't think we need to dilute the message. The shooting was not about the movement", explained Enjolras.

"No, the shooting was about Eponine, was it not? And at least you'll get some fame out of it", shot back Marius.

"Marius!" exclaimed Jehan. Looking over to Enjolras he saw their leader's eyes had gone icy cold. The room was suddenly silent.

"Oh calm down, I'm just joking, you know" Marius slurred. Combeferre was frozen, waiting on a reaction from Enjolras.

"He's just had too much to drink, that's all", Eponine added, trying to soothe the situation.

Marius, through his stupor, suddenly noticed how the atmosphere in the room had cooled. "Come on, I was kidding", he said. 'But I mean it's undeniable is it not that Enjolras will finally have his face plastered all over New York after this, as he's always wanted – for the cause, of course".

Combeferre inhaled sharply.

"Get out" said Enjolras quietly from the kitchen through gritted teeth. His jaw was set and anger was steaming from his every fibre.

"He's drunk mate, he doesn't know what he's saying", said Feuilly, rising from the couch.

"Shut up Feuilly! I will _not_ be undermined or have my commitment to this movement made fun of by someone who struggles to show up to meetings on time – if _at all_!" Enjolras said, his voice firm but full of rage.

Musichetta, Joly and Boussuet were rising from the sofa, giving each other glances. Clearing his throat, Joly spoke. "Umm…I think we're going to make a move. It's getting late and we should probably go. I'm not feeling particularly well".

"Oh don't go, please", said Eponine imploringly.

"I think I'm going to go too" said Feuilly, patting Eponine on the shoulder. "Marius you should come with me, alright?" He leaned over and helped an unsteady Marius to his feet, before turning to Enjolras.

"Enj, he's going to regret this in the morning. Try and get over it in the meantime, ok?" Feuilly said as he walked Marius to the door.

"Yeah..I don't mean it..or I do..or whatever..you're _fabulous _Enjolras, you really are". Marius was stumbling and laughing as he walked to the door.

Combeferre and Bahorel were both standing next to Enjolras. And Eponine was relieved at it. Enjolras looked so furious she was worried he might physically lash out at Marius, and Combeferre would not allow that.

Eponine was beyond flustered. How had this gone so bad, so quickly? When they'd all left the apartment, she closed the door, leaning on the back of it as she turned to Enjolras, exhaling.

"Well, that took a turn, didn't it?

"This is MY group Eponine, I take it very seriously. What he said was out of line".

"I know Enjolras, he was just drunk though. I've never _seen_ him so drunk. He was probably just missing Cosette or something", she said quietly as she started scraping plates into the garbage bag.

"You're just soft on him because of your previous attraction".

The room was suddenly silent, even the buzz of electricity seemed to still. His words cut deeply.

"What?"

"Eponine do you expect me to believe your feelings for him have simply evaporated?". _Why am I saying these things? Why can't I stop myself?_

Her shoulders slumped as she took in his words. Looking into his eyes, she shook it off and straightened up, firing back.

"Don't lash out at _me_ because Marius bruised your ego. He was _drunk _Enjolras. _Wasted._ And after all we've been through together, you doubt my love? How _can_ you? ". Her anger was bringing tears to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

He stood opposite her in the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, saying nothing. _I've hurt her. Say something_! And no words came to him, so in silence they remained.

"Fine. Stay here. Wallow in it. I'm taking the garbage out". He reached out to grab her arm, but she was already to the door and he watched as she closed it behind her loudly. _Damn me and my stupid pride! _As he wiped the benches down, he thought about what he might say to her when she came back inside.

Outside, Eponine stomped down the stoop, walking around to the darkened side of the building where the individual bins were stored. Dumping the bag in the bin with a loud thud she smelt him before she even turned around; Cinnamon, cigars, and stale whisky.

"Evening 'Ponine", said a voice in the darkness.

_Montparnasse._


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: **Welcome to my new followers :- )Here we go kids. This is my first real go at writing an action-focused chapter, aside from the rally. I hope you like it. I couldn't hold it back any longer, given how worried some of you were. As always, reviews and constructive criticism welcome.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Genesis"_ by Justice – this is a hardcore instrumental  
_"Lunatic Fringe"_ by Red Rider

* * *

**Chapter 33**

_Lunatic fringe  
__I know you're out there  
__You're in hiding  
__And you hold your meetings  
__I can hear you coming  
__We know what you're after  
__We're wise to you this time  
__We won't let you kill the laughter__  
_

_Lunatic fringe  
__In the twilight's last gleaming  
__This is open season  
__But you won't get too far  
__'Cause you gotta blame someone  
__For your own confusion  
__But I'm on guard this time  
__Against your final solution__  
_

_We can hear you coming  
__No you're not going to win this time  
__We can hear the footsteps  
__Out along the walkway__  
_

_Lunatic fringe  
__We all know you're out there  
__Can you feel the resistance?  
__Can you feel the thunder?__  
_

_ - Red Rider, 'Lunatic Fringe'_

* * *

"Evening 'Ponine".

The words and the source had struck fear deep within Eponine's body. She knew immediately that he was there to finish what he had begun. It could be the only reason. Her only hope was to delay the inevitable. She hoped that Enjolras would wonder what was taking her so long, despite their argument, but in the meantime she was on her own.

Turning to face him, she was defiant. "What do you want 'Parnasse?"

"I'm not done with you darling", he said menacingly, tracing the outline of her chin with his gloved hand as he forced her up against the bins. "I'm not done with you by a long shot".

"The police are after you, you won't get away. You should never have come back here". She turned her head, looking to the front of the building, hoping to see Enjolras.

Montparnasse laughed darkly as he caught her gaze. "Waiting for your boyfriend? I'm waiting for him too. I can see his approach perfectly from here. And when they find both of your bodies, think how tragic the headlines will be".

* * *

Enjolras was pacing the apartment. _Where is she? It's been at least ten minutes_. He walked down the hallway and into the bathroom to relieve himself. _I've blown it. I've really blown it with her. _As he washed his hands, he made up his mind to go looking for her. And it was then he heard the muffled voices floating up from the alley below the bathroom window.

"….see his approach perfectly from here. And when they find both your bodies, think how tragic the headlines will be".

Enjolras felt like he was moving his legs but nothing was happening fast enough. Running into the bedroom, he grabbed the baseball bat Eponine kept under the bed, and his phone, hastily typing out and sending a grossly misspelt text, before eschewing the front door in favour of the fire escape.

* * *

Over the dividing fence between neighbouring apartments, The Boss was crouched. Hardy was next to him, along with their three other cohorts. Shaking his head and putting a finger to his lips, he motioned that they were not to move or make a sound. He wanted to hear how the scenario played out between his two targets.

* * *

"Why did you kill the boys? _Why?_" Eponine was crying silently now. Montparnasse had his knife raised up against her neck, but not quite touching the skin and his breath was in her face.

"Because", he said, pressing himself into her, so his body was flush against hers, "Because of _you_. It's all your fault 'Ponine. That day at the club, it would all have been so much easier if you'd been a good girl". He leaned down to smell her neck, inhaling her fear. She closed her eyes, trying to block it out, trying to block out the hardness that he was forcing against her.

"And I want you to know, before you die, that you brought this on yourself and it's _their_ fault too for daring to interfere with my plans for you".

"You're not acting on my father's instructions _now_ though, _are _you?" she said, struggling to get the words out. "No. You aren't. You're a dead man, 'Parnasse. You know it and I know it. Thenardier will not let this stand".

He paused for a moment at her words, the slightest glimmer of doubt flickering in his eyes. "I've been following you for _days_. Did you know that?" he said grinding into her further as he let the knife slice narrowly under her jaw, bringing a thin line of blood. "I saw you with that prick in the alley". Seeing the disgusted looking on her face he continued. "That's right. I saw what you let him do to you. I've evaded the NYPD and Thenardier. And I'll be long gone from here before anyone is the wiser".

"Your ego has always been your undoing 'Parnasse. Do what it is you came here to do and be done with it", she said defiantly through her tears, wincing at the pain under her jaw. "Leave Enjolras out of it".

"I have a little time. And we have unfinished business", Montparnasse said, still holding the knife to her throat as he pushed his coat aside to unzip his pants.

"No. Please don't", she said struggling vainly against his greater body weight and strength. He pressed the knife against her jaw again, bringing another, deeper line of blood.

"Shut up", he whispered ferociously. "You know you want it". He pulled up her skirt viciously and thrust his hand into her underwear. Eponine closed her eyes hard, trying to block out the intended assault, before she heard a bloodcurdlingly vicious yell and felt Montparnasse knocked away from her.

* * *

Enjolras had gone out the fire escape, coming around the back of the block of apartments, moving in between the garbage skips. Montparnasse's stupidity had been his focus on Eponine. Enjolras listened, his fury growing exponentially as he listened to his threats against her. He struggled to remain silent as he realised he'd cut Eponine with his knife. His hands were clenched tightly around the bat as he got down and crawled in the final approach to the two of them.

Seeing him preoccupied with his pants and the knife, Enjolras saw his opportunity. Leaving the bat where he crouched, he launched himself at the man with as much anger and energy as he could, wrapping his hands around Montparnasse's torso as they fell to the ground.

The man was caught off guard and it gave Enjolras an opportunity to get on top of him. The knife had fallen from his hands, and Eponine - coming out of her shock – kicked it as far away from them as she could.

"You son of a bitch!" yelled Enjolras, lifting up Montparnasse by the scruff of his coat before slamming him hard back onto the cement. Pulling his fist back he pounded down into the man's face with every ounce of unspent grief and fury, and as he heard the crack he knew he'd broken his nose. Blood immediately began to pour out of it. Blinded temporarily from the pain, Montparnasse brought his knee up in defence, catching Enjolras in the ribs. Gasping, Enjolras rolled off him, struggling to his feet, but also placing himself between Eponine and her attacker.

"It doesn't bother _me_ who dies first" Montparnasse snarled, wiping the blood on his face with his sleeve and trying to reach into his coat for something Enjolras was certain would be a gun.

Enjolras lunged at him again, pushing Montparnasse against the fence, behind which The Boss and his compatriots were hidden and about to make their move. He could feel the adrenalin rushing through his body alongside the rage at the useless deaths of Grantaire and Courfeyrac and the psychological damage done to Eponine.

Relentlessly raining blows on Montparnasse about the face and body, the other man was groaning as he slowly slid down the fence, unable to defend himself. Reaching into his coat desperately, he pulled out the gun, only to find another hand over his, struggling to gain control. Enjolras pulled back his knee and brought it with full force to the other man's chest, wrenching the gun from his hand at the same time.

He took a step back, aiming the gun at Montparnasse, before looking over to Eponine, trying to catch his breath. "Are you alright?" She put her fingers to her neck, feeling the wounds, and nodded. "I think so".

Enjolras cocked the gun, pointing it at Montparnasse's chest. "Don't do it Enjolras", implored Eponine. "I'll lose you too. Please".

"I'm not going to kill him 'Ponine. Justice will be served". He looked at Montparnasse, hardening his jaw. "I'm placing you under citizen's arrest for the murder or Grantaire and Courfeyrac, the attempted kidnapping of Gavroche', and the attempted rape and assault of Eponine".

"You fucking _pussy_" spat Montparnasse. In the background, the faintest sound of approaching sirens began to fill the air.

"We're going to wait for the police, regardless of how satisfying it would be for me to kill you" replied Enjolras.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that", said a voice from behind them. Climbing over the fence were five men, all holding guns that were aimed at the trio. The man who had spoken stepped forward.

"He's not going to be arrested. _We're_ taking him. We heard everything. He won't bother you again. He won't bother _anyone_ again", he said, looking down to Montparnasse who now looked genuinely afraid.

"What are you going to do with him? Who are you?" asked Enjolras, keeping the gun on Montparnasse.

"They're my father's men. _Aren't_ you?" asked Eponine instinctively.

The one known only as Boss nodded. "We are. But Miss, _you're_ coming with us too. You're father wants you back with the family. _Now_.

"No. I won't go, I _won't_ go back there. Do what you will, but I won't go with you." Eponine stood forlornly, blood dripping down her neck and onto her dishevelled clothing .

Enjolras was torn, his finger edging tighter on the trigger. He was clearly outnumbered and he knew he wouldn't make it out of the alley alive. He would be the only witness. But he couldn't let them take Eponine. He thought about his text. _Where are they?_

"Get up! Get up" said the one known as Hardy to Montparnasse. As he edged his body up and moved away from the fence, four of the group formed a circle around him, edging him back down the path.

From the corner of his eye, Enjolras saw lights going on in apartment windows above them; obviously the noises in the alley had alarmed some nearby residents. The Boss had seen it too. Grabbing Eponine's arm he urged the group away from the street end, to the rear of the apartments. They were quickly running out of time.

Enjolras kept following, even as the others kept him in their sights, keeping the gun trained on the figure of Montparnasse.

As they rounded the corner, they were suddenly blinded by flashlights.

"Put your hands up! This is the NYPD – we have you surrounded!" boomed a voice from the darkness.

Before they had a chance to use her as a hostage, Enjolras dropped the gun and sprinted from behind, tackling Eponine to the side, pushing her out of the leader's grasp and rolling himself underneath her to protect her from the hard ground, leaving Montparnasse and the five men fully exposed to the twenty police officers at the back of the building.

"Drop your weapons and lay on the ground!"

"_FUCK_!" said The Boss, letting his gun fall to the ground, and nodding his head to the other men to do this same. This was not a suicide mission.

Montparnasse smirked as he lowered himself gingerly to his knees, blood still running from his nose; he looked at his adversary. "I guess we're _all _in trouble with Thenardier now, eh?"

* * *

The red and blue hues of the siren lights whirlpooled on the adjacent buildings, as the six men were led away into the waiting police vans. Detective O'Malley had charge of Montparnasse as they crossed the pavement in front of an ever growing crowd of onlookers.

"Wait!" yelled Eponine as she walked with Enjolras, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, kindly provided by one of the officers. "Wait". She released herself from his arm that was around her shoulder and he reluctantly let her go. O'Malley turned, bringing Montparnasse with him as he did so.

Before anyone had time to stop her, Eponine swung back her arm with as much energy as she could muster in her tiny, beaten body, punching Montparnasse in his already broken nose. "That's for Grantaire and Courf'", she said as the blood sprayed from his face. "And this" she said, "_this_ is for me", kneeing him squarely between his legs and bringing him to his knees, groaning. Leaning down as he writhed in pain, she whispered to him so the others couldn't hear, "Good luck in jail 'Parnasse. You're going to need it". She held his eyes as two officers pulled her away from him and guided her back to the waiting arms of Enjolras.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: **Our two lead characters have been through an awful lot, haven't they? This chapter will see them start on their real steps to recovery. Eponine, in particular is broken but hopefully not irreparably. She's a very strong character, as is the Yin to her Yang, Enjolras. And they have a very caring group of friends and health workers around them to help see them through. Everyone is pulling for our favourite couple to make it.

White Cedars is a cottage in the resort of Mohonk Mountain House in the Hudson Valley, NY. You can check out the website to see where E/E are.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Stitch by Stitch"_ by Javier Colon– an incredibly beautiful song and well worth listening to.

* * *

**Chapter 34**

_Blue and black, heart torn out,  
You uncover what's beneath my skin  
There and back, there's no doubt,  
your touch is my medicine_

_I'll be okay, 'cause you heal me..._

_And I'll give you all my pieces broken_  
_In your hands, there's nothing that you can't fix_  
_My heart is frayed, my scars are open_  
_So put me back together now, stitch by stitch_  
_Put me back together now, stitch by stitch._

_What you say, without words, resuscitates what was numb inside_  
_So repair me, every thread of me, 'cause you're bringing me back to life_

_I'll be okay, 'cause you heal me..._

_And I'll give you all my pieces broken_  
_In your hands, there's nothing that you can't fix_  
_My heart is frayed, my scars are open_  
_So put me back together now stitch, by stitch_

_I'm still afraid of falling, somehow it's takin' over me_  
_Don't ever let me let it go..._

_There and back, there's no doubt, your touch makes me whole again_

_And I'll give you all my pieces broken_  
_In your hands there's nothing that you can't fix_  
_My heart is frayed, my scars are open_  
_So put me back together now, stitch by stitch_  
_Put me back together now, stitch by stitch_  
_Put me back together now, stitch by stitch_

_ - Javier Colon, 'Stitch by Stitch'_

* * *

Eponine and Enjolras sat on opposite beds in the emergency ward of Downtown Hospital. The curtain between their cubicles had been drawn back so they could see each other as the medics tended to them. Eponine sat silently entrenched in a haze of déjà vu at her surroundings, wincing as her doctor asked her to lift her chin so he could finish with the last of the five stitches needed to close the wounds Montparnasse had inflicted on her with his blade.

Enjolras was also being seen to, although his wounds were more superficial. His hands and knees were badly scraped from the scuffle with Montparnasse, and his ribs were bruised but otherwise he was fine. He was more focused on the girl sitting across from him than any of his own injuries at any rate.

Eponine had barely said a word since their arrival, apart from answering in a curiously monotonous tone when the NYPD had questioned them, taking her statement. Enjolras was deeply concerned about her. It was as if a light had been extinguished from inside her. Even now, looking across the way at her, she only managed a half smile at him and one that did not reach to her eyes.

Around them a whirlwind of activity buzzed. They were in the silent eye of the storm as it raged around them. The rest of the group had descended upon Downtown Hospital as fast as the city traffic had allowed. They had listened to Enjolras with horrified faces as he retold the events of the evening.

"If only we'd stayed longer. I don't know how you restrained yourself from killing him, Enj", said Combeferre.

"Yes, we should have stayed. We knew he was still on the loose", added Feuilly.

Enjolras shook his head. "How could anyone have known? And known that it would be tonight? No. Everyone, including the police thought he was long gone. _He's_ the murderer, this is no-one's doing but his. No-one thought that he would risk coming back to New York, not even the police", said Enjolras.

"You and Eponine were worried tonight when you answered the door to Joly, weren't you?" Jehan said, remembering the looks between them.

"We both felt as though we were being watched at certain points, but there was no evidence. The police couldn't do anything for us on a whim. They came when I called tonight and that's all that's important".

"Did he rape her Enjolras?" asked Jehan quietly, pulling the frontman to the side.

"No, he didn't get the chance. But he would have", Enjolras responded, and it did not escape Jehan that it appeared Enjolras had tears in his eyes as he turned to look at the bed where Eponine sat.

* * *

Meanwhile, Joly and Bahorel were engaged in a dispute with the medical staff at the front of the Emergency Ward.

"Let us in to see them or so help me I'll rip this place apart!" Bahorel was shouting, as Joly tried to calm him down. Police officers were holding both of them back as Enjolras approached them with Combeferre.

"Please officers, these are our friends", Enjolras explained. "Bahorel, calm down. This _isn't _helping"

The two police officers begrudgingly released Bahorel, thrusting him forward to where the others stood. "Fine. But this is a hospital. You're to be on your best behaviour or we'll escort you out of here before you can blink an eye? Understood? ",warned the young officer.

"Understood", said Bahorel.

The automatic doors for the main emergency ward opened and the group slowly made their way back to the area where Eponine was still being treated.

"We just drove past 'Ponine's place on the way here, Enjolras", said Joly. "It's a pretty wild scene. There are news crews crawling over the place and the police are still there with the investigation. It's a nightmare".

"You can't go back there tonight, mate. They'll be looking for an interview. First the rally and now _this_ – you guys are the top story tonight" added Bahorel.

"They're out the front of the hospital too. A whole media contingent. Hospital security is keeping them at bay for now, but you're going to have trouble when you leave", continued Joly.

Enjolras frowned, looking over to Eponine who appeared to be getting more frail as the minutes went past. "I need to get her out of here", he said, motioning to Eponine. "I need to find another way to get her out of here. We need to get her out of New York City and this madness. Tonight".

"You could go to White Cedars, my parents' cottage in the Hudson Valley. It's empty at the moment" offered Combeferre." I'll lend you my car, you can be there in a little over an hour and a half", offered Combeferre.

"I can get you out of here" said Joly. "I know this hospital and a few of the staff. We can go out through the morgue".

"The morgue?" asked Jehan incredulously.

"It's the best way. As soon as she's cleared and "Ferre is back you should take off."

"I'll go get the car and call my parents", said Combeferre before walking down the hall towards the carpark.

* * *

Two hours later when Eponine was finally discharged, the group made their way through the bowels of the hospital led by Joly. Passing the morgue, they exited via the basement of the building. Walking out to Combeferre's car - an old Jeep Wrangler - the group kept an eye out for any reporters. Enjolras had his arm around Eponine, and she nestled into it.

Enjolras opened the door before turning to the other men. "Valjean returns in three days. We'll be back by then", he said, before looking at his passenger, "depending on how Eponine is".

"Here", said Combeferre, pressing something in to his hand. "Here's a hundred dollars, and my fuel card, courtesy of my parents. Take it, fill the car, and get some groceries".

"I've got my credit card, 'Ferre", argued Enjolras.

Combeferre shook his head. "Take it Enjolras, and take care of Eponine. Now get out of here. It won't take them long to figure out you've left the hospital".

"You've got the address?" asked Jehan.

"I already programmed it into the GPS", replied Combeferre." Just take the I-87 north. The GPS will do the rest. Good luck man", he said shaking Enjolras' hand. "See you in a few days, ok".

"Alright. Thank you", he said grasping 'Ferre's hand. "Thanks to all of you. I-I feel like I'm deserting you".

"Just go", said Feuilly, "The revolution will still be here when you get back. Go take care of our girl".

Enjolras nodded, and got into the car, turning the ignition. He gave them a quick wave before speeding out of the hospital, making his way to the NYS Thruway.

* * *

In the dark of the car, Enjolras looked over to Eponine. She had her eyes straight ahead, looking out the window but didn't seem to be really focused on anything.

"Do you want the radio on?" he asked, taking a moment to look over to her. She shrugged and kept looking out into the darkness.

"Hey, it's going to be ok", he said reaching over as he kept his eyes on the road. "We're going to be ok, alright?" Reassuringly, he patted her knee before putting his hands back on the wheel. "It's not much longer. I just need to stop somewhere and pick us up food".

"Ok", came the reply.

"'Ponine, I know this is a stupid question, given what happened tonight, but are you alright?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes tired and full of pain. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. I feel like I've been living a nightmare these past few weeks, and each time I start to wake up from it, something else happens. Is it really over, Enj? _Is it_?" Her voice cracked at her last words, and she started silently crying. Then a desperate keening came from her, more animal than human as she tried to stop the tears.

Looking in his rear-view mirror to make sure he didn't have any traffic behind him, Enjolras pulled the car off the road to the emergency lane. He took Eponine's hand in his, rubbing it reassuringly. Despite still being mildly uncomfortable with extreme shows of emotion, there was no such reticence when it came to her.

"Eponine, look at me. _It's over_. It's really over. They got all of them. With our testaments and those of the NYPD, Montparnasse and that whole crew are going away for a _very_ long time. Your father will let you go now. You're free".

"If I'm free, then why do I feel so broken?"

He shook his head, biting his lip. "It's going to take some time. And I have some things to make up to you as well. Things we don't need to discuss right now, but that I regret more than you know". He coughed, clearing his throat and swallowing the emotions that threatened to overtake him. "You need a time out. Time out from New York. And even from us. This is just me, being your friend right now. You can sleep, you can just relax and get better out here. And I'll be here to talk to, if you need me".

She reached her hand over to his leg, squeezing it. "Thank you". He gave her a half smile, before starting the ignition again, and pulling the car back onto the freeway.

* * *

It was close to two a.m. by the time they arrived at the cottage. It was part of a resort but Combeferre's parents used it seasonally and had it on standby. They were fortunate to get access to it.

As they pulled up in front of the cottage on the gravel driveway, they were met by an older man who appeared to be holding the keys. He approached Eponine's side of the car, opening the door for her. "Good Evening. Master Combeferre called ahead to the main house", he said. "I've taken the liberty of starting the fireplace for you. There's fresh linen on the beds. I've also brought a selection of clothing down from the stores in the main house– it's in the master bedroom. Master Combeferre told me you didn't have any fresh clothes with you. It's all to be charged to him – or rather…to his parents", he smiled wryly.

"That's very generous, thank you", said Enjolras, taking the keys before opening the boot and picking up two bags of groceries.

"My name is Jameson, like the whiskey", said the older man. "If you need anything, there's a phone in the cottage. Otherwise, you'll be left to your own devices in privacy. I bid you goodnight. Please enjoy your stay".

"Goodnight Jameson".

Eponine took the key from Enjolras as the got to the front door of the cottage. Opening the door, she took in her surroundings. The living room was warm and inviting, a fire blazing in the stone fireplace. Two large overstuffed sofas took pride of place. The floors were polished wood, with the occasional vintage rug placed sporadically, adding to the cosy feeling.

Enjolras took the groceries into the galley kitchen, unpacking the items that needed to be refrigerated. If he had felt the least bit in the mood, he would have been impressed. It was a fully appointed gourmet setup that any cook would have loved to call their own.

His eyes were drawn to Eponine, who had started slowly down the hall in an almost dreamlike state.

She wandered through the house, taking in the large king-bed bedroom and ensuite. The room on the other side of the hall was another bedroom with two twin beds. There was a large bathroom with a Victorian-era bathtub. All of the rooms had large windows, so she assumed there was quite a view to be seen from where they were situated.

As she wandered back she found Enjolras warming up some milk on the stove for both of them. "I thought maybe we could both use this", he said. When the milk was ready he poured it into two mugs and sprinkled nutmeg on the top, taking them over to the sofa where they both sat down.

"Enjolras…about the sleeping arrangements, I –"

"I've already thought about that. You can have the main room. I'll take the room across the way", he said softly.

"It's not about you", she said. "It's just…after what he did, what he almost did…", her voice trailed off. She took a large sip of her milk.

"You don't have to explain. You can come to me if you need me, alright? If you get frightened I mean", he clarified.

She nodded, rising from the lounge. "I think I'm going to take this into my room. I feel like I could sleep for days".

"Okay".

"See you in the morning?"

"I'll see you in the morning, Eponine".

Silently he sat, watching the slight figure pad down the hallway, before hearing the soft click of the door behind her.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: **Meditation, reflection and quiet companionship. Eponine is in healing mode. For the very first time in her life she is indeed, free of all that has encumbered her. Enjolras thoughts are on her, and also on the return to New York when he will meet with Valjean. Fear not, Enjolras and his revolutionary fire is still there.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'_You Can Still Be Free '_ by Savage Garden – this is an incredibly inspirational track and the vocals by Darren Hayes are soaring.

* * *

**Chapter 35**

_Cool breeze and autumn leaves  
Slow motion daylight  
A lone pair of watchful eyes  
Oversee the living  
Feel the presence all around  
A tortured soul  
A wound unhealing  
No regrets or promises  
The past is gone_

_But you can still be free  
If time will set you free_

_Time now to spread your wings  
To take to flight  
The life endeavour  
Aim for the burning sun  
You're trapped inside  
But you can still be free  
If time will set you free  
But it's a long long way to go_

_Keep moving way up high_  
_You see the light_  
_It shines forever_  
_Sail through the crimson skies_  
_The purest light_  
_The light that sets you free_  
_If time will set you free_

_Sail through the wind and rain tonight_  
_You're free to fly tonight_  
_And you can still be free_  
_If time will set you free_  
_And going higher than the mountain tops_  
_And go high like the wind don't stop_  
_And go high_  
_Free to fly tonight_  
_Free to fly tonight_

_ - 'You Can Still Be Free', Savage Garden_

* * *

Almost three hours after drifting off to sleep, right before the dawn broke around five a.m., Eponine awoke in the strangeness of her surroundings. Glancing around the room, it took a few moments for her to realise she was not in her own bed. Pulling the heavy quilt from her body, she stepped silently across the floor and reached for the fluffy dressing gown on the back of her door, wrapping it around her.

The fire was still burning lowly in the fireplace and it gave a soft warm glow to the house. She stepped into the hallway, seeing that the door to where Enjolras slept was slightly ajar. Looking in, it took a moment for her to see him amongst the dishevelled quilts. He'd obviously had a restless night sleep. He slept quietly now, but his brow was furrowed slightly as if a dark thought had burdened his slumber. He'd left the curtains open, and the slowly disappearing moon shone upon him softly, catching the blonde of his hair and illuminating the fullness of his lower lip.

Moving into the room she paused for a few moments, taking him in. Sometimes it was still hard to equate him in his still moments like this, with the fire of him in the throes of his revolutionary prose, the indignation and righteousness burning in him.

Instinctively she reached over to touch his face, but pulled back before skin met skin. She studied him for few minutes more then retreated into the hallway, making her way to the living room where she put another log of wood on the fire, and settled down to sleep on the oversized lounge. Her room was dark, and out here the light of the fire kept the monsters in her dreams away.

* * *

The dawn came shortly after but neither of them woke immediately. Eight o'clock came and went, until finally Enjolras surfaced from his heavy slumber. Putting on his track pants and a hooded jumper, he walked sleepily across the hall to look in on Eponine. Seeing that her bed was empty, he felt a sinking in his stomach and a panic that roused him completely into wakefulness. He knocked on her ensuite door, and having no answer he ran to the kitchen before catching sight over dark tresses fanned out by the armrest of one of the lounges.

Exhaling, he crept over lightly to look at her. She was in a calm sleep, her breathing regular and her pose relaxed. The robe threatened to swamp her tiny figure, it was more blanket than clothing, and she had her feet curled up underneath it to keep them warm. _One step forward, two steps back .That's our defining move – one step forward and two steps back._

She stirred suddenly and he took a step backwards, not wanting her to find him observing her in this manner. Finding himself in the kitchen, he turned to the benches, putting the kettle on for a much-needed coffee.

* * *

Eponine woke not long afterwards to the smell of coffee and toast. Tying the robe around her she got up from the lounge and made her way to the kitchen. On the bench she found a coffee cup made up for her with granules, and a plate with two thick slices of bread next to which sat what looked like homemade jam and freshly whipped butter by the toaster. Her stomach growled at the sights and smells and she realised how hungry she was.

As she made her coffee she looked out to the deck, that she hadn't realised was there last night. In a rocking chair by the edge of the stairs, Enjolras was sitting silently, his eyes closed as he took in the morning sun. _Maybe this is good for both of us._

She wandered out, pushing the French doors apart with her elbow as she held her cup and plate. The morning was brisk outside, but not unpleasant, and the smell of the pine trees was refreshing.

"Hi", she said, sitting in the chair beside him. Opening his eyes he turned to looking at her, squinting into the sun.

"'Morning. I see you found breakfast?"

"Thanks. Yeah, the jam looks great, real strawberries", she said

"Did you sleep ok? I was worried when I saw you on the lounge".

"I slept alright. My bedside lamp is blown and… I just didn't want to sleep in the dark", she said, embarrassed.

"They might have a utilities cupboard somewhere. I'll have a look for a spare globe later."

"Ta. And you? Did you sleep alright?"

"Not really, no. A strange bed I suppose". _I didn't sleep because you weren't in my arms._

She looked down to the majestic lake and the forest surrounding it below them. "I thought I might take a walk later, and have a look around".

"That sounds good. Are you up to it? I'm going to work on some notes for when I speak with Valjean".

"You don't want to come with me?" she asked, turning towards him.

"Is that what _you_ want", he asked hesitantly. "I don't want to intrude".

"I'd like it if you did", she replied before taking a sip of her coffee, not looking at him. He could hear how heavy her heart was in every word and breath.

"Alright. We'll need to rug up, the wind is cold even if the sun is warm. Hopefully the clothing they sent down for us is appropriate".

"I saw a lot of black and red on the rack in my room. At least 'Ferre got our colour scheme right", she said ruefully.

* * *

Combeferre and Jameson had done well. The racks were filled with warm clothing that suited the environment _and_ the intended wearer. The fact he'd gotten Enjolras size right wasn't surprising – both men were approximately the same build and height, but he'd also picked Eponine's petite figure perfectly.

After finishing her breakfast, Eponine dressed in thick, black, tight-fitting ski pants and black turtleneck, over which she wore a puffy thermal vest. Amongst the shoe selection she'd found some rugged ankle-length boots to complete the outfit, putting her hair up into a messy ponytail, before meeting Enjolras on the deck by the stairs.

He had dressed warmly as well, in his customary jeans, over which he wore a dark grey v-neck, and a warm puffy jacket in black, similar to her vest. He had on a pair of hiking boots. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was deep in serious thought with his hands in his pockets when she approached, his dark blue eyes focused on something in the distance. _Is this my best friend? My avenging angel?_ she thought.

Hearing her approach, he glanced her way. "Ready to go?".

* * *

It was a long walk down a path of wooden stairs in the middle of a dense forest, to the lake below. The leaves of the trees were multi-hued in shades of rich amber, heady burgundy and deep mahogany, and the smell of the damp and freshness was invigorating. The sunlight coming through the trees burnished all around it with an auburn glow. When the trees rustled in the wind, it showered them lightly as the leaves let go, one by one.

Enjolras thought he was imagining things when Eponine laughed softly a few steps in front of him as a leaf fell, tickling her face as it made its way to the ground. The sound warmed his heart more than it had a right to.

"It feels good to leave the concrete pavements behind, doesn't it?" he said.

"I love that city. It's my saviour. But this is pretty great", she agreed. "It smells new and old all at the same time".

They continued down the path, Enjolras keeping an eye on her as she went. He breathed in deeply, taking in all of it. The smell of the trees and the smell of the damp earth, the burnished trees surrounding the cold, aqua lake below them. _I needed this too._

Eponine turned to him as she got to the bottom of the stairs, which joined up with a wide dirt track that zig-zagged through the forest. He caught his breath. A gust of wind had made the leaves float and rustle around her face, which was flushed pink from the coldness. For a moment, he caught sight of a sparkle in her eyes, before it faded and she turned aside, continuing on her way.

The dirt path was shadowed by the trees overhead, creating a multi-coloured arch as they walked under the boughs, the dappled sunlight throwing sparkles through branches.

He hurried his step to walk beside her, the leaves crunching under his feet as he did.

"Where are we going?", he said, turning to her.

"I don't know, let's just follow the path and see where it takes us", said Eponine. The underlying double-meaning wasn't lost on either of them. "Maybe the lake?"

"Sounds good to me".

Rounding the corner, they came across the full view of the majestic main house balancing on the rock cliffs situated over the lake.

"Wow. Would you look at that? It's beautiful", said Eponine.

"It is" said Enjolras alongside, looking at _her_ as the words left him. "Maybe the most beautiful thing I've ever seen".

Not seeing where his glance had been directed, she turned, raising an eyebrow at him. "That's flowery prose from you. We should get you and nature acquainted more often".

"I packed lunch. Should we find a spot to eat somewhere?" he replied, moving in front of her.

"Maybe over there", she said, pointing to the picnic tables situated on the far side of the lake, in the sun.

* * *

For more than an hour they sat by the water, eating the sandwiches and fruit Enjolras had made for them. Not many words were spoken between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Eponine found his presence soothing. He'd always been a man of few words. He was being careful not to touch her or make her feel awkward. When he'd passed her the water bottle his hands had brushed hers and she'd felt the familiar chemistry flare. Enjolras has gone to rise from the table at the touch but she'd stopped him, reaching out for his hand. He squeezed hers in return before sitting back down.

And for another half hour that's how they remained. Hand in hand, sitting on the bench facing the lake and watching the last of the geese play in the lake.

He looked over to her, noticing that she looked tired, even though the sun had warmed her cheeks.

"We should get back. You need to rest", he said, giving his hand to her to help her stand.

"I _am_ tired, it's just so lovely here I don't want to leave".

"We can come back tomorrow, if you like".

She smiled gently at him. "I'd like that".

* * *

Eponine had gone to take a shower in her ensuite on their return. She was worn out and afterwards decided to take a nap in her room. It was only four o'clock but the sun had started to set and a chill was in the air. While she slept, Enjolras put some more logs in and started the fire, before deciding to shower himself. After luxuriating in the hot water for a good twenty minutes, he finished and looked for something to wear, finding a classic dark blue set of pyjamas with light grey piping by the bed. _Not quite my style_, he thought.

In the time he'd been in the bathroom, the house had grown cosy and warm. Grabbing the notepad by the phone, he started scratching down notes, as he watched the sun set across the mountains. Somewhere in all of this, he needed to find a way to focus on his goals. He'd always found that if he looked to the light instead of the tunnel, the obstacles seemed to fall by the wayside. _Stand straight, don't cry, be ruthless, be a man for God's sake. _The words of his father echoed in his mind. _And I am – just not the kind of man he wanted me to be._

* * *

By the time Eponine rose from her nap, it was almost eight o'clock. She found Enjolras in the same spot he'd been earlier, still writing in the notepad.

"Hey".

"Hey" he replied, getting up from his seat and moving over to the couch. "I made you some dinner. It's not much. You seemed to like the pasta dish the other night so I made some fettuccine with cherry tomatoes, basil and pecorino cheese. I'll heat it up for you".

"It's ok, I can do it.", she said. "Enj? What are you wearing?"

He looked down , "I know, it's completely ruining my hipster-revolutionary vibe, isn't it?

"It's different, that's for sure".

"And what is it _you_ have on?" he asked.

"A onesie..long john ..thing. It's really warm, though not very fashionable", she replied as she helped herself to some pasta before putting it in the microwave for a minute.

"What are you reading?" he asked, noticing the book in her hand as she made her way over to him.

"It's by Graham Greene – _'The End of the Affair'. _There was a little bookshelf in my room with some novels on it. I read for an hour when I woke up. It's a very sad book_" _she said as she sat down next to him.

"I'm familiar with the work", he said, noting the surprised look on her face. "He's a very good author, he wrote one of my favourite books_, 'The Quiet American'. _Do you think it wise to read such a sad book?

"I keep trying to find some meaning in all the suffering. In my own." she said.

"Without suffering, there'd be no compassion." he replied. "And you are the most compassionate person I know", he said, not looking at her, keeping his eyes on the crackling embers. "Remember that you're alive. And that's a beautiful thing".

He was startled by a kiss on his cheek, as she leaned over to him. "Thank you". Their eyes met briefly before he looked away.

"We should probably tend to your stitches before you go to bed", he said gruffly, getting up and looking for the first aid kid he had seen earlier in the kitchen. Finding it, he returned to the lounge, sitting a little closer to her than he'd been before. "Do you want to finish your dinner first?"

"Let's do this, my appetite isn't that hot anyway".

She lifted her chin so he could see the stiches underneath her jaw. He dipped a cotton ball into the mild soap and water solution he'd prepared.

"This isn't going to work, you're going to have to turn and face me a bit" he said. Curling one leg underneath her, she turned to him. Using two fingers, he lifted her chin gently so he could see underneath.

"They look good", he said looking up, finding himself catching her gaze. He coughed, and continued to gently clean the area. "It's a good thing they're dissolvable. They should be gone in about 10 days." He dipped the cotton ball again into the solution, becoming painfully aware of the frisson between them.

"One more should do it", he said. He found himself looking at her lips as he continued in close proximity. In response he subconsciously licked his own. _Concentrate, damn you. Healing, closure, the movement, don't pressure her. Focus, focus, focus, _he silently berated himself_._

Using a piece of bandage, he gently let it absorb any extra moisture, before putting it away.

"Eat your dinner", he lightly scolded her. She picked up her fork putting a large amount in her mouth, scrunching her face up at him in the process.

"Do you want to watch tv?" he said.

"No, they might have the headlines on, and I don't want to see any of that."

"We're going to have to deal with all that eventually, you know?" he asked gently.

"I know. But not today".

"Ok, not today", he replied, leaning over and putting the radio on.

Eponine finished her pasta then moved to the other end of the sofa, taking her book with her. Enjolras, seeing that she was occupied and peaceful, went and got his notepad and continued his earlier thoughts on the progression of the movement. He sat on the other end of the lounge, his feet touching hers.

By the time he was finished, Eponine had fallen asleep again. She was curled in a semi-foetal position, hugging the book closer to her. Not wanting to wake her, he leaned down and picked her up in his arms, carrying her with ease into the master bedroom, where he lay her down before pulling the quilt over her.

"Rest easy, 'Ponine", he said, before making his way back to the living room, picking up his pen and paper.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: **Another day at the cottage. Twenty-four hours without television and in the calming hands of mother nature can seem like a very long time. For some reason this chapter gave me some trouble, but I'm happy with the outcome and I hope you enjoy it too. As always constructive criticism and reviews welcome :-)

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'_Blackbird' _by The Beatles

* * *

**Chapter 36**

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
__Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
__All your life  
__You were only waiting for this moment to arise__  
_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
__Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
__All your life  
__You were only waiting for this moment to be free__  
_

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
__Into the light of the dark black night__  
_

_Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
__Into the light of the dark black night_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
__Take these broken wings and learn to fly__  
_

_All your life  
__You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
__You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
__You were only waiting for this moment to arise__  
_

- '_Blackbird' by The Beatles_

* * *

Chapter 36

Both Eponine and Enjolras slept long and soundly, the mountain air working its wonders on both of them. When she finally roused, Eponine found herself hugging a pillow. _Well, you're a poor substitute for Enj but you are cuddly._

She padded out to the living room, putting another log on the dying fire, before deciding to have a shower. Afterwards she found a deep maroon polo neck and some skinny black jeans which she paired with her own worn, black boots. She left her damp hair out loose, to dry naturally.

After making herself a bowl of cereal and coffee she went to the deck outside and sat, watching the sun rise. Sitting alone in the loveliness of the morning scenery, she suddenly had flashes of Montparnasse threatening her at The Musain, Grantaire's weight on her as she fell, her breakdown at the hospital and the darker moments in the alley. The images came relentlessly, broken and ragged as in a dream, but cutting into her psyche like a knife.

She felt a wetness on her cheeks and found she was crying. She let the tears come. For more than ten minutes she sat alone, quietly sobbing as the rising sun beamed down on her. When finally her tears were exhausted, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her outpouring had left her mildly exhausted, and yet there was also a strangely cathartic lifting in her heart. _Life goes on._

Catching a glimpse of her face in the window of the French and seeing the evidence of her tears, she went to her ensuite, applying a light makeup and a little blush, giving herself a reassuring half-smile in the mirror. _I'm alive, and that's a beautiful thing_, she thought remembering the words Enjolras had spoken.

* * *

When Enjolras woke from his own sleep, he showered and dressed quickly. He found Eponine lying on her stomach on the living room rug in front of the fire. She had a large map of the resort and its surroundings spread out before her, and she had circled several points of interest.

"Morning", he said startling her.

She jumped to her feet, surprising him by stepping in for a warm hug. "Morning", she replied. They stood for a moment, luxuriating in the closeness, before she took a step back.

"Would you be keen for some adventure today?" she asked, wide-eyed. "Do you know people staying in the cottages get free access to the horse-riding and the heated indoor spa?"

He was looking at her with his deep blue eyes questioningly.

"What?"

"Nothing. You seem different today", he replied.

"I'm fine. I just…I just want to get out there. I don't want to waste the day, that's all", she said.

"Ok", he nodded.

"Ok? That's it? No writing for Valjean today? No robust argument?" she said to him cheekily.

"Hmm. Very funny", he said smirking at her. "Today, Mademoiselle I acquiesce to your wishes. _Today_. Tonight we talk about New York. Deal?"

She pursed her lips. "Deal. Now hurry up and eat breakfast".

* * *

Enjolras and Eponine were at the stables. Before leaving the cottage, Enjolras had called ahead to the main house to see if they were indeed able to ride the horses. After an affirmation they'd made their way down where a groom had discussed their riding levels and allocated a guide for the ride.

Enjolras was allocated a former racehorse named Roulette while Eponine was given an older, more reliable horse called Duchess. Their guide, Toby, was ahead of them on the track as they wound around the path down into the surrounding valley. It was a beautiful autumn morning; there was a light chill in the air but the warmth of the autumn sun helped to balance it out. A sweet scent of the moist morning dew permeated the air on the forest trail, clearing their heads and sharpening their senses.

Eponine was being jostled by the movement of the horse. Despite Toby's instruction she just hadn't quite gotten the hang of horse-riding just yet. Enjolras, on the other hand was a natural. He adjusted to the gait of his horse easily. Today he looked like a throwback to revolutionaries of olden times, his posture and golden hair giving off images of retro bourgeoisie. She could tell he wanted to let the horse loose, but was awaiting the go-ahead by Toby once they got down the mountain trail. His horse mirrored its rider and was fairly chomping at the bit to stretch its legs, pulling its head slightly in the bridle.

When they got down on the flat of the valley, Enjolras brought his horse around to trot beside her as she walked Duchess.

"Another thing your father had you take lessons for?" she asked him.

"My mother, actually. But this is one thing they forced me into that I actually enjoyed. Lean back a little in the saddle and keep your back straight, Eponine. That's it. Relax and the horse will relax with you. Are you enjoying it?" he asked.

"I am", she smiled. "Even though I'm a bit hopeless. It's a little scary but fun too – does that make sense?"

"It does. A horse is a powerful animal".

"How long has it been since you've ridden?" she asked.

"A long time now, maybe ten years. It's like riding a bike – you never really forget". Enjolras pulled the reins a little firmer as he spoke. Roulette wanted to gallop. He could feel the animal's muscles straining underneath his legs. He looked to Toby who was mindful of his two charges. Toby nodded to Enjolras.

"Do you mind if I take him for a run?" he said. "Toby will look after you".

"Go" she laughed. "I don't know who wants to run more – the horse or you".

He surprised her by giving her a wide, wild grin, and then let the reins go. He moved his outside leg and squeezed gently, indicated to Roulette that it was alright to canter. They went ahead of Toby and Eponine, transitioning from the easy canter to an all-out gallop, the horse taking long loping strides as they ran out onto the green flat of the valley.

"Would you look at him go", Eponine said.

"He's a beautiful horse, he was a champion", replied Toby, pulling up alongside her. "Your gait is much better now Eponine".

"I wasn't talking about the horse", she said shyly.

"Oh", he laughed in response to her honesty. "May I ask how long have the two of you been married?"

"Married? No, no we're not married", she said, blushing an showing her ringless hand. "We're just…together". Enjolras was at the lower end of the valley now, circling the horse around in their direction before putting Roulette into a steady gallop.

"I didn't mean to presume" explained Toby. "My apologies, you just seem so connected".

"Don't be silly, it's fine". Do you think I might try and trot now?" she asked.

"Sure. Sit deep in the saddle and keep contact with your legs. Point your heels down", he said. "Good. That's great Eponine. Let yourself rise out of the saddle a little bit – that way you won't be so uncomfortable".

Eponine suddenly found she was in time with Duchess, and moved ahead of Toby a little. She was exhilarated by the power of the horse juxtaposed with Duchess' sweet nature. She concentrated on what Toby had told her, trotting up to meet with Enjolras, who was breathing heavy and flushed. A light sweat was upon his brow.

"I've never seen you look so…unrestrained", she said. In response he flicked a raised eyebrow in her direction. _Is he flirting with me?_

"He's a beautiful horse", he said. "You look like you got the hang of it 'Ponine".

"It only took me the entire hour to do it".

"Well we still have to get back to the home stables, so you have some more time" advised Toby. "But the horses will basically get there themselves. Just make sure you keep Duchess to a trot Eponine. Once these guys smell home, some of them try and bolt".

They reached the stables twenty minutes later, Eponine sliding off Duchess carefully. Her legs were wobbly and uncoordinated as she touched the ground, and instinctively she knew that she would be stiff and sorry in a few hours.

Enjolras looked over to her as he dismounted from Roulette. His own legs were a little ginger as well.

"That spa sounds pretty good right about now, yes?"

* * *

After eating a light lunch together at the cottage, they went through the clothing racks in the house trying to find bathing costumes. After despairing of ever locating them, they came upon the suits in the cupboard of the main bathroom- board shorts for him and a classic black one-piece for her. They both showered quickly before putting their swimmers on underneath their warmer clothing.

The spa was located in a small A-frame building beside the hotel, perched on the corner overlooking the lake. The lights were dim inside, and several candles were burning already, but the windows were large, creating a feeling of the outdoors being inside. They had the place to themselves.

Eponine exhaled loudly as she sank into the warm bubbles. "Oh God, that feels good. My butt is killing me".

"Horse-riding has a way of doing that. I'm feeling a bit sore myself. It was a good ride though".

They both luxuriated in the massaging sensation of the bubbles for a few moments, letting the firmness of the water jets kneed their aching muscles. Eponine closed her eyes, mindful of not sinking too far into the water lest her stitches get wet.

"Eponine?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you have dinner with me tonight?"

She opened her eyes a little to find Enjolras staring at her intently. "Who else would I be having dinner with?"

"Not at the cottage. We could go to the main house. They have a formal dining room."

"Formal? What's gotten in to you?"

"Nothing. We've never done that. And I'd like to. It's my treat. 'Ferre's parents won't be footing the bill".

"You're buttering me up to discuss the return to New York?"

"No, but we do need to talk about it". He was started to look mildly annoyed. Eponine realised she was in danger of spoiling an almost perfect day.

"I'm sorry. I'd love to have dinner with you. I have no idea what I'm going to wear though…"

"I spotted a little black dress on the rack when we were looking for the swimsuits", he said, edging closer to her.

"Oh really? 'Ferre was pretty ambitious with his clothing choices, then". She laughed at the thought.

"I'd put that one down more to Jameson's good taste than Combeferre's actually". He reached out his hand underwater, rubbing it against her knee, before parting them so he could place himself between them.

Realising he was going to kiss her, Eponine unexpectedly became nervous. She closed her eyes as she felt his lips touch hers. It wasn't a gentle, tentative kiss either. This kiss tasted of missing her, and needing her. As he pulled her tighter, he could feel her needing him right back. She moaned softly as his tongue massaged hers, pulling him closer, her hand behind his neck.

It was only when they heard someone feign a cough behind them did they part. Another couple had entered the A-frame, obviously looking for some privacy as well. Eponine scooted quickly to the other side of the spa from Enjolras, making her exit at the steps. Enjolras gave himself a moment – his enthusiasm for the kiss would have been immediately apparent otherwise.

"We were…just leaving", Eponine said, bashfully smiling at the couple. She wrapped one of the provided robes around her and gathered up her clothes. Enjolras, on the other side of the spa did the same though with an obvious air of defiance_. Damn them_.

* * *

Eponine was understandably exhausted by the first part of their day, and on returning to the cottage, she'd changed into her pyjamas and jumped into her bed for a nap. Lying in her bed, she started to drift off, contemplating their kiss in the spa as sleep took her over. In a way she felt like they were starting anew, only with a sage knowledge of each other. They had both changed so immeasurably since their relationship had begun. She wasn't the same person. She was at once more fragile and stronger at the same time. And she knew Enjolras had changed as well. When they were alone, his fire tempered slightly revealing his softer underbelly. As she closed her eyes in sleep, she wondered how the return to New York would affect their relationship.

Enjolras had retreated to the living room, taking up residence on the couch by the fire. He had fallen into a sound sleep almost immediately as well, but not without first replaying in his mind their encounter in the spa.

* * *

_Seven p.m._

By the time Eponine awoke, twilight had already come and gone and darkness had settled across the mountain. She could hear Enjolras in the shower across the hall, getting ready for dinner, and decided to retreat into her ensuite and get ready as well.

Once she had showered she went to the rack of clothing, searching for the black dress Enjolras had seen earlier. She picked it out immediately amongst the dark clothing. She gasped. _Herve Leger. _The dress was a classic off- the-shoulder, bandage dress. _Well, I guess the bandage part suits me to a T. _She put the dress on eschewing a bra as she didn't have the right kind, but thankful for the seamless underwear she was wearing. _I'm not game enough to wear it by itself_, she thought. She decided on a jacket that looked like it was meant for Enjolras and pushed up the sleeves to her elbows. The dress was almost to the knees and she was grateful for the length. Having no jewellery with her, she put up her hair in a messy bun, allowing tendrils to fall, partially covering her earlobes. She found a black pair of pumps on the bottom rack that were slightly too big, but that fit her perfectly when she put some toilet paper in the toes.

Her cheeks were flushed from the day so she only applied some mascara, a clear gloss and some eyebrow pencil from the makeup kit in the bathroom. "I'll have to do", she said to the reflection in the mirror. But admittedly she felt good, even if her outfit wasn't perfect.

When she stepped out into the living she found Enjolras on the lounge by the fire waiting for her. He looked handsome and dapper in tailored black pants and a fitted V-neck sweater in dark grey that looked expensive and highlighted his physique.

"Hungry?" he asked, taking her in as he stood up, offering her his arm.

"Starving".

* * *

The maîtres'd showed them to their table. They were in a secluded corner of the formal dining room by the window, which overlooked a large portion of the majestic Shawangunk Ridge. The lights around the lake had been turned on creating a picturesque scene below them.

The room was warm, and as Eponine looked around she could see that other women had taken off their coats and jackets. Taking a deep breath she removed her own, placing it on the back of her chair as the maîtres'd seated them.

She could feel Enjolras' eyes on her as she went to sit down. And he was not the only man in the room to notice the way she looked in the dress.

"Remind me to send my regards to Jameson for the clothing choices", he said.

She blushed under his gaze. "I'd better not eat too much; nothing else is going to fit inside this dress".

"Order at will. The dress will be fine, it fits you perfectly". He said as he picked up the menu.

"These prices are sky-high!" she said, taking his lead and perusing the menu. Again, she felt her blood rise in response to his compliment.

"My credit card and trust fund are taking care of it tonight. When we get back we can return to pasta, tuna and soup. Tonight we can make an exception – it's just one night".

He signalled to her to order as the waiter approached their table.

"Are you ready to order?"

She looked over to Enjolras, who nodded his head. "I'll have the pan-seared scallops for entrée, and the roasted tenderloin with pork belly for the main please".

"And for the gentleman?"

"The tuna tartare for entrée, and the coq-au-vin for my main."

"And can I offer the accompanying wine for each meal?"

Enjolras and Eponine exchanged a glance. "Thank you, yes", replied Enjolras.

"It's not like you to drink", she said to him across the table as the waiter departed. "I think the only time I've seen you have a wine is when we had Les Amis to my - I mean _our _apartment for dinner, and one other time at The Musain".

"It blurs my focus. I don't like to be out of control".

"But tonight?"

"Tonight is about enjoying ourselves and vibrant discussion. Even _I_ can let go for a moment".

She thought on that as the drinks waiter brought over their wine.

"Napa Valley Riesling for the lady, and a lovely New Zealand pinot noir for the gentleman", he said, putting their drinks on the table with a flourish.

"You must be excited about seeing Valjean again and discussing the movement with him?" she asked Enjolras. She straightened the shoulders of the dress as she spoke. The bareness of her skin there and at her neck made her feel more than a little self-conscious.

Enjolras sat back deeper in to his sit and regarded her as he pondered the question. "I wouldn't say excited but I am anxious to get underway again. We've got momentum and Occupy is gaining supporters all over the world, not just the United States. We need to capitalize on it and push forward", he explained. "Eponine, do stop fussing", he said as she went to adjust the shoulders again. "Truly, you look lovely tonight". Again she found herself under his intense gaze.

"Shall we have a toast? To New York. And to…getting on with it".

He raised his glass to meet hers, "To New York and getting on with it then", he said as the glasses tinkled together.

* * *

After a delicious meal, Eponine excused herself to the bathroom while Enjolras paid the bill and found them a seat in the cocktail lounge. He watched her as she walked away, again taking in her rhythmic gait in the dress as she made her way across to the powder room. "She's very beautiful, your wife", said the barman.

"Hm? Oh." Enjolras said, realising the barman was talking to him. "Could I have two brandy's, a carafe of water and two glasses to that table over there?" He studiously ignored both comments. _My wife?_ Curiously the thought caused no outrage in him.

"Of course, sir".

He signalled to her on her return and she joined him in the secluded booth.

* * *

"I've decided to go to psych counselling, Enj. Even just being here for two days I feel so much better. Think how well I could be if I addressed all these demons in my head once and for all?" Eponine was relaxed, the brandy had warmed up her blood and her cheeks were rosy with it.

"You should do whatever you feel you need to, in order to get better", replied Enjolras, taking a small sip of the brandy. "Are you going to wait to approach Valjean with your proposal?"

"No. I'm ready. My other issues are just that. Mine. The homeless cannot wait for me; it will still take time to get it off the ground, even if Valjean does approve the grant immediately".

"Agreed. Do you need my assistance in approaching him".

"I can do this on my own. It's _important_ I do this on my own. We're not joined at the hip, Enj".

He bristled at her tone. "Of course". She noticed the hardening of his features, the familiar retreat into formidable territory.

"Is it so wrong I need something for myself?" she questioned. "I'm sorry if I offended you but surely you must understand of all people. This, _us _is so special to me, but I don't want to be an adjunct – an afterthought to everything that has to do with Les Amis. The sidekick to the great Enjolras. I want to get well. I want to have a life and a purpose of my own".

From across the table, his blue eyes blazed at her and she saw him coming back to her. "I want you to have a life with purpose too. I was merely offering my support".

"Thank you. I do appreciate it". She reached out her hand to his as she spoke and he grasped it, massaging her fingers. The atmosphere noticeably eased and they were both relieved.

"'Ponine, when CNN interview me, they _will_ ask about you. I cannot get around it. I have thought about it long and hard. How is it _you_ wish me to answer about the shooting at Zuccotti and the attack at your apartment?"

"I think you should answer how we agreed. You should say the matter is under investigation by the NYPD and as such you aren't at liberty to discuss it".

"Ok, but we should be prepared for some attention. And there is another thing; they might ask what I was doing there, the nature of our relationship".

"What do you mean?"

He brought a hand to his mouth, touching his lips. "I mean do I divulge the nature of our relationship? Is that something you're comfortable with? Les Amis have some ardent fans who might get even more…excited if I had a – a…girlfriend?"

"_Am_ I your girlfriend?" The word seemed to have no depth in relation to them or their shared experiences.

"Well…for want of a better word. I'm not seeing anyone else and I don't have any intention to. And we are living together".

"Do you _want _to call me your girlfriend", she pushed.

"Eponine, it's not like you to fish for compliments. My feelings for you haven't changed. The term girlfriend doesn't seem adequate, but it satisfies society's endless need to put a tag on something".

"You can call me your girlfriend", she said softly as he pulled her hand to him, kissing her fingers gently.

* * *

After the sojourn to the cocktail lounge they decided to head back to the cottage. The hour was getting late and the day had been long, though in the best possible way. The exhilarating mountain air combined with the physical activity of the horse-riding and the spa, had laid waste to any tension in their bones.

Enjolras started the fire on their return and they both changed quickly into their sleepwear. The tension between them was palpable as they said their goodnights and each was disappointed the other had not made a further move – even though they were both exhausted beyond complaint.

Their doors were left open across the hallway as mutual invitations, but they drifted off to sleep as no approaching footsteps were heard on either side.

* * *

Eponine woke restlessly in the middle of the night. Her sheets were a mess; even the under sheet was in disarray. She lay in the dark for a moment before reaching over and turning on the lamp. Nothing. Enjolras must have forgotten to change the globe. Jumping out of bed, wearing only her pyjama top and underpants, without thinking she went across the hall, quietly pushing open his door. He wasn't there.

Making her way to the kitchen she was startled to find Enjolras there, standing by the open door of the fridge, shirtless and in his pyjama pants, holding a carton of milk. He hadn't yet noticed her presence and she used the moment to take in the glorious view of his naked upper body.

"Are you alright? Did you need something?" he said interrupting her thoughts, his eyes taking in her apparel, or rather lack of it.

Walking over to him, she looked up at him sleepily before taking a step closer and planting a soft kiss on his chest. She ran her hand delicately over his bare muscles, before running her mouth lightly over his nipple causing a shiver to run through him. He put the carton down on the bench. Tilting her face to him, he searched her eyes before brushing his lips against hers. He ran his hands down both her arms before settling on her hips. He was in no hurry, deepening the kiss at leisure, feeling her take a step closer, moving into his embrace.

There were no words between them. Not now. She leaned her head back gently, giving him access and let him know that it was alright, that she trusted him.

Needing no urging he bent down to kiss the left side of her jaw, careful to avoid the stitches and traced kisses down her neck.

"I want you back in my bed", he whispered low in her ear, kissing the lobe, making her moan.

"And what will you do to me there?", she dared to ask him.

"Everything".


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: **These two have been through so much but one thing that has never waned is their sexual chemistry, even when they weren't physical. Here again we see them in an intimate setting as Enjolras continues to share his experiences with Eponine. On this day as well they make their way back to New York and the sexual exploration soon makes way for their nervous departure from their seclusion, back into the real world.

As to the sexual content of this chapter; the Enjolras I have in my mind has been both focused on his goals and has never really found someone that can shift it, but also repressed his sexuality because of the way his father introduced him to it. And for Eponine, having this part of her become more free is also part of her therapy and self-discovery. I think the way her family made her feel about a woman's body also led her to repress normal sexual feelings. So for both of them, this is another dimension - exploring a physical relationship within the safety of a loving relationship.

This is a slightly shorter chapter but the next one will be longer. As always, constructive criticism and reviews welcome :-)

**Warning:** Hold tight, this is a particularly spicy lemon – in keeping with the context above. But younger readers might be advised to skip this chapter.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'_Empire State of Mind (solo) ' _by Alicia Keys.

* * *

**Chapter 37**

_Ooooh, New York!  
__Ooooh, New York!__  
_

_Grew up in a town that is famous as a place of movie scenes  
__Noise is always loud, there are sirens all around and the streets are mean  
__If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere, that's what they say  
__Seeing my face in lights or my name in marquees found down on Broadway__  
_

_Even if it ain't all it seems, I got a pocketful of dreams  
__Baby I'm from New York!  
__Concrete jungle where dreams are made of  
__There's nothing you can't do  
__Now you're in New York!  
__These streets will make you feel brand new  
__Big lights will inspire you  
__Hear it for New York, New York, New Yooork!__  
_

_On the avenue, there ain't never a curfew, ladies work so hard  
__Such a melting pot, on the corner selling rock, preachers pray to God  
__Hail a gypsy cab, takes me down from Harlem to the Brooklyn Bridge  
__Some will sleep tonight with a hunger for more than an empty fridge__  
_

_I'ma make it by any means, I got a pocketful of dreams  
__Baby I'm from New York!  
__Concrete jungle where dreams are made of  
__There's nothing you can't do  
__Now you're in New York!  
__These streets will make you feel brand new  
__Big lights will inspire you  
__Hear it for New York, New York, New Yooork!__  
_

_One hand in the air for the big city  
__Street lights, big dreams, all looking pretty  
__No place in the world that can compare  
__Put your lighters in the air, everybody say  
__Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!__  
_

_In New York!  
__Concrete jungle where dreams are made of  
__There's nothing you can't do  
__Now you're in New York!  
__These streets will make you feel brand new  
__Big lights will inspire you  
__Let's hear it for New York, New York, New Yooork!__  
_

- '_Empire State of Mind', Alicia Keys_

* * *

They'd made love twice in the past several hours, almost as if for the first time. Now Enjolras was awake again, thinking about how we wanted to touch her, admiring the curve of her spine as she slept naked next to him. He traced a finger down her skin, along the outline of her back, before making his way up to her shoulder where he made a trail from the top down to her delicate hand, taking it in his own before kissing her shoulder.

"Again?" she asked sleepily, rolling over towards him. _He's so different in bed_, she thought. _Or is he? The intensity and passion weren't far removed from his focus out of it. _In here though there was no to and fro, she found herself enjoying the surrender to him. He was a fiery, experimental and giving lover.

"Mmm". He touched a finger lightly to her lower lip before dipping his head and kissing her. His hand continued on its journey, one finger lazily trailing down her neck. When he arrived at her breasts, he circled lightly around, fascinated with her increasing arousal. He rolled the nipple between his fingers, eliciting a low moan from Eponine.

He looked up to her, his eyes heavy. "Feel good?"

"Yes".

"And this?" As he spoke he leaned down, taking her breast in his mouth, sucking and licking until she moaned again. She went to turn to him to reciprocate and he gently pushed her on to her back.

"Just enjoy it", he said as he moved another pillow under her head and propping himself up on his elbow as he laid next to her. _Enjolras_ placed a finger in his mouth, wetting it before circling her other nipple; the dampness and cool air combined with his touch making it erect instantly.

Trailing his hand down her belly, he lingered just below, drawing lazy circles on her soft skin. Eponine had stopped breathing in anticipation. "I just want to make you feel good", he said, taking her mouth in his, kissing her deeply. At the same time his other hand started massaging her, parting her legs. He put one finger in softly before moving it in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Oh", she moaned into his mouth. With his thumb he massaged the bud in slow circles at the same time. He was enjoying watching what he did to her and giving her pleasure, and made no move to increase his rhythm.

"I love you", he said, listening to her breathing increasing. Taking her hand and putting it in her mouth, he then placed it on top of his as he continued massaging her. Then he moved his hand away, so she was touching herself. "Don't stop Eponine", he said. Eponine had never done anything like this before, but rather than being embarrassed it turned her on even more as they both concentrated on her pleasure.

Enjolras removed his fingers from her, and then laid back for a moment to watch her. She moved her fingers in a slow, circular motion, locking eyes with him as she pleasured herself. "Don't go any faster 'Ponine. Do you have any idea how good that looks?" He began sliding down her body until he could almost feel her fingers against his face. He put his tongue against them so she was being stimulated by both, and she started to breathe faster which only made him harder.

"Enj", she whispered.

"I know you like this Eponine" he said as she moaned and lay her head back on the pillow, continuing to touch herself. He licked in the same place, sucking her fingers as she continued. Eponine was finding it hard to control herself now, and had begun rotating her hips.

Enjolras kicked what remained of the blankets off the end of the bed, and placed himself between her legs. He looked up at her, teasing her by not going any further. She pulled on his hair but he did not budge.

"What do you want me to do "Ponine? Tell me". She was too far gone to even think about being shy.

"Taste me".

And when he finally he let his mouth do what she wanted, the sensation threatened to overpower her. She needed him. Now. "Come up here", she said pleadingly.

"Not until you're done". He stopped talking and thrust his tongue deep inside her, making her hips buck. She was already at the point of no return and within seconds she felt the delicious building sensation reach its climax. When her release came she pulled him away from her and up her body, taking holding of him and placing him just outside her entrance. "Fuck me", she whispered in his ear.

The shock of hearing Eponine say the words made him groan and he gladly thrust into her. He was so turned on by their previous explorations that he had to hold himself back, lest it be over too quickly. He made love to her slowly, with long strokes until both of them were perspiring despite the cool air in the room. She wrapped her legs around his back and lifted her hips, making Enjolras moan out loud. He grabbed her hands as he reached his peak, before shuddering into her arms as his release came.

She kissed his forehead as he lay on her, exhausted. Wiping the tendrils away from his face, she smiled contentedly.

"I feel you grinning", he said, trying to gain back his breath.

"I'm happy".

He looked up to her. "I'm happy too".

"Did I crack the marble statue?" she asked, only half-jokingly.

"No, you made him more. This side of me is only for you".

She touched his face tenderly at his words.

"I love you Enj".

"I love you too Ponine".

They lay together quietly. She would have happily let him stay that way all night. But he shifted his weight so he was beside her, rolling on to his back exhausted.

"Want to go again?" he asked. She looked over to find him smiling at her.

She laughed at him. "I'm barely going to be able to walk as it is – and not from the horse ride".

"Come over here", he said, indicating his chest.

She moved over, cuddling up to him and put her head down so she could feel his heartbeat. In a few minutes the closeness had sent both of them off to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

After a late shower and an even later breakfast, Eponine was standing on the deck of the cottage, taking in the spectacular scenery one last time, trying to commit it to memory. Picking out an outfit for the ride home, she'd chosen a pair of bootleg jeans, and a black turtleneck sweater. Despite the original offer by Combeferre and the protestations of Jameson, she'd refused to take advantage of the clothing offered, choosing only what she needed to get home.

She could hear the sound of Enjolras' footsteps in the gravel driveway as he checked the car, and packed some water for the journey home. He'd changed back into his jeans, jacket and t-shirt combo that he'd arrived in, though he'd bought the v-neck sweater that Eponine had liked so much on him at dinner.

It was getting on to one p.m. and her stomach was grumbling but they'd both decided to have lunch back in New York at their favourite café. It felt as if they been away for a week rather than just over two days but the break had been a good one and much needed. They both felt as if they were ready to move forward with whatever challenges came their way on their return to the city.

"Ready to go?" said Enjolras behind her. He walked outside to the deck, taking in one last look for himself, breathing in the fresh mountain air, before pulling her close to him. "We may not always have Paris, but we'll always have Mohonk", he said wryly.

"But Mohonk sounds _so_ much more romantic", she replied, laughing.

"It was".

"Yes, it was. Thank you for bringing me here Enj. I feel like I'm on my way to finally owning my life".

"Are you really ready to go back? We can stay another day or two, if you need to". He had turned to her, examining her face as she thought over this question.

"No, I'm ready. Ready to start again anyhow, come what may".

"Come what may", he repeated, taking her hand as they left the deck and made their way through the house to the car.

"Do you need to drop the key off?"

"No, I called ahead. They said to leave the key on the kitchen bench."

"I guess that's it then". She walked around the passenger side of the car.

"Maybe we'll come back here again one day", Enjolras said to her as he started the car.

"Maybe".

* * *

It was always surreal to Eponine how fast the journey home from somewhere was as opposed to the length of time it took to get there. Before she knew it, they were at the turn-off from the I-87 back into New York, the city's fable skyline silhouetted against the late afternoon sun.

"Do the guys know we're due in this afternoon?" She asked Enjolras as he made the turn.

"I sent them a group text from the cottage. They're all aware. I did ask that they hold off getting in touch until tomorrow unless they had an emergency. Which means Marius or Joly will probably call _tonight_", he said ruefully.

"Are you going to have a talk with Marius about that night at dinner?" she asked.

"I will. There's not much to say though. He was drunk. I got offended. It will be fine. He's a big boy Eponine. We'll sort it out".

"I know. I don't want to be the Yoko Ono of Les Amis, that's all".

"No chance of that", he said patting her leg." It was just a misunderstanding. He knows we have to get on with it. Our little lives and arguments need to be put aside for the movement".

"Do you meet with Valjean tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. It will be a group meeting. We'll address the movement, but we also need to go over again the CNN interview".

"Are you nervous? I'd be petrified".

"No", he said, merging into the exit lane for the Harlem River Drive. "I'm used to speaking to large groups, so in comparing the two, this will easier. It will just be myself, Valjean and Anderson Cooper".

She smiled gently at him. There was the Enjolras she knew and loved - fire in his words and commitment. She turned her head to look out the window. They were getting closer to the Village now, and the hustle and bustle of the city made Eponine feel welcome. Despite loving the time away, she felt the city calling to her now. It was here she'd disappeared to so many years ago, and New York had been her salvation. When they'd first departed from the cottage she was concerned the return might fill her with apprehension, but now, having had the chance to think about and map out what lay ahead, she was instead eager to just get on with living her life.

She turned as they passed The Musain. A wave of bittersweet memories washed over her. If things went well her time there would be coming to an end. _That's the great thing about New York_, she thought. _Tomorrow is always another chance to carve out a new beginning._


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: **Apologies for the delay. Sadly I had a death in the family, and that has contributed to the wait for this chapter. I have to go to a funeral next week so the next one might not be up for a week or two. I hope everyone is still enjoying the story. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome :-)

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

_Present Tense by Pearl Jam_

* * *

**Chapter 38**

_Do you see the way that tree bends?  
__Does it inspire?  
__Leanin' out to catch the sun's rays  
__A lesson to be applied  
__Are you getting something out of this?  
__All encompassing trip__  
_

_You can spend your time alone  
__Redigesting past regrets, Oh  
__Or you can, come to terms and realize  
__You're the only one who can forgive yourself, Oh  
__Makes much more sense to live in the present tense__  
_

_Have you ideas on how this life ends?  
__Checked your hands and studied the lines?  
__Have you the belief that the road ahead  
__Ascends off into the light?__  
_

_Seems that needlessly it's gettin' harder  
__To find an approach and a way to live  
__Are we gettin' something out of this  
__All encompassing trip__  
_

_You can spend your time alone  
__Redigesting past regrets, Oh  
__Or you can come to terms and realize  
__You're the only one who cannot forgive yourself, Oh  
__Ah, makes much more sense to live in the present tense__  
_

- '_Present Tense' by Pearl Jam_

* * *

When Eponine and Enjolras arrived, the rest of Les Amis were gathered around their familiar table near the darkened stage inside The Musain. For a moment it was jarring not to see Courfeyrac amongst them. Shaking it off, Enjolras walked confidently towards them.

"Enj! Good to see you man", said Combeferre, shaking his hand. Looking past him, he moved on to Eponine. "Hey 'Ponine, how are you love? We've all been worried about you".

"I'm fine 'Ferre… well, better at any rate. How have things been here?" she asked, looking around to them all.

"Crazy. I've been fielding phone calls since you've been gone. But, thankfully the chaos at your place is gone. How was the cottage?" he asked discreetly.

"The cottage was exactly what was needed, Combeferre", Enjolras interjected. "Thank you for offering it to us, and thank your parents as well".

"It was what needed to be done, Enj. Are you ready for all this?" he asked as the others gathered around.

"We're both ready", replied Eponine.

Jehan was hugging Eponine, while Joly and Bahorel hung back. Marius sat alone, separate from the others and when Eponine looked over to him it did not escape her notice that an air of blackness hung over him.

"Hi Marius, what's new with you?" she said, walking over to him and sitting down in the vacant seat beside him.

"Fine 'Ponine, I'm glad to see you're well", he said absentmindedly.

"Is everything alright, Marius?" she said, frowning.

Enjolras interrupted before she had a chance to further the conversation.

"Shall we get started? We meet with Valjean at four o'clock, and we have a lot to get through". He said, motioning for them all to sit down.

Eponine made herself a little scarce, walking over to the bar and looking over the receipts for the past few days. No doubt Sam was in the back somewhere and she wanted to discuss her future plans with him.

The group waited as Enjolras pulled out his stack of papers, and the same notebook Eponine had seem him scribbling in at the cottage.

"So, I've made some notes about the way forward for us, and I'd like to address each of those points and get a consensus from the group. Hopefully, we can move through this quickly. Firstly, I'd like to talk to Valjean and CNN about staging another concert".

"But what about any reprisals Enjolras, and the negative publicity from Zuccotti?" asked Jehan.

"There won't be any reprisals. Everyone involved has been taken into custody and will soon face trial. We know for a fact that Eponine's father never meant for anyone to be killed, as little a comfort as that is to us all. It does mean that we can go on without fear, and I think that is exactly what our next step should be. Let's take a vote, shall we? All in favour raise your hand."

One by one they all raised their hands.

"Enjolras, if we are to perform again, what about Joly?" asked Feuilly. Joly raised his head questioningly at the mention of his name.

"What about Joly?" said Enjolras.

"I mean we're going to have to rehearse intensively to get him to be a perfect fit with the group. Are you up to that Joly?" Feuilly said, turning to the medic.

"Of course I am. Is my loyalty at question here?"

"Joly, I'm quite certain that is not what Feuilly was implying. I do understand the question though. We're going to have to put in some intensive rehearsal time to make the transition fluid. I assume that's not a problem for anyone? Joly, if need be we can work around your shifts". Joly nodded his head and Feuilly seemed satisfied with the response.

"Bahorel, have you applied for your security licence yet", asked Enjolras. "And I meant to ask you before but are you licenced to carry a handgun?"

The group looked at him. "I put the paperwork in yesterday for the security licence, and yes, I have a licence to carry a handgun. I have my own".

Jehan was gobsmacked. "Enjolras will Bahorel _need_ to carry a gun? I thought you said the threat was gone".

"_One_ threat is gone. I will not have the safety of anyone in this group compromised again. That's one thing that's not really up for discussion, as long as Bahorel doesn't object".

"I'm good with it", Bahorel replied.

"Right. Next. Marius, where are you going?" Marius was standing and about to make his way to the back of the club.

"To the bathroom", he replied with a look of distaste.

"Well, hurry back, we have a lot to get done". Marius nodded and kept on his way.

When he was out of sight, Combeferre sighed and put his head in his hands. Jehan exhaled.

Enjolras looked from face to face.

"Out with it, what's going on?"

"Marius has been staying at my place, Enj, unleashing his sorrowful heart on the rest of us. When Valjean returned to New York, he would not allow Marius to see Cosette, and even found a new apartment for her".

"But, why?"

"Marius has it in his head it's to do with Zuccotti Park, and perhaps he's right. I think Valjean is playing it safe after what happened to you and Eponine".

"I'll talk to him today".

From the back of the club came Marius' voice. "And what will you say, Enjolras? You don't know what it is to love someone as I love Cosette. Your concern is the cause and nothing else".

Eponine, standing at the bar bristled at his words.

Enjolras looked at Marius evenly, ignoring the slight that had been bestowed on him. "Marius", he said firmly, "I will talk Valjean and see if we can't figure a way around this".

"This is not about the revolution, Enjolras. This is about matters of the heart, a subject matter you know little of. Please, this is not your area of expertise".

_Oh Marius, if only you knew how wrong you are_, thought Eponine.

Enjolras could feel the temperature of his blood start to rise. The others sat still in their seats as Enjolras walked towards Marius.

"I thought we were done with this, Marius. The other night, I thought you were drunk and emptying the garbage of your mind onto the rest of us, and I thought the alcohol was to blame. Now I fear otherwise".

"C'mon, calm down boys", said Feuilly, feeling the escalating tension.

"Marius, stop", Eponine hissed at him.

"Marius, perhaps it's best you take time out to reconsider what you're saying. I have never before questioned your loyalty to the cause merely your tardiness. Do not make me question it now".

From the side of them, Eponine took in both their profiles; both had their jaws set, and hands tightly clenched. She knew then that neither would back down.

"You can't keep me away from the group, Enjolras", said Marius. "This is my fight too. And your insistence on being the focal point in the media is unfair to the rest of us".

"Marius, really! Your insistence on goading me into an argument about this is exhausting and futile. I wasn't aware this was a competition. It's either unity or we're done for – I will not tolerate internal nonsensical bickering over your ego".

"_My_ ego? _My _ego?. Oh that's rich".

"Is it? Is it really? Because this conversation is petty, and not worth my time Marius. After the events we've all be through you are focusing in on the least important part of it. I'm talking to the media because I'm the leader singer of the group. It's natural. This is _not _a competition. I'm merely the voice for everyone's thoughts. That's all".

Combeferre stood up. "Marius, I have to agree with Enjolras. He is a good leader. He has been the spearhead for this group and the movement. We democratically decide things but Enjolras is our best orator. You say these things with your heart, not your head. Think before you speak further".

Jehan was standing too. "Please, don't go off in a huff Marius. Valjean will come around."

"You don't understand. None of you do", said Marius. He picked up his coat, and started making his way to the door.

"Marius! What about the meeting with Valjean?" Enjolras called after him.

"Go without me – it's what you all do best, after all!" he said.

"Marius you just can't – "

"I'll call you tomorrow Jehan". And with that, he was gone and the door of The Musain banged noisily behind him.

* * *

"What are we going to do, Enj? Valjean will wonder where Marius is?" asked Joly.

"Joly, it will be alright. Valjean is a wise man, this meeting is not about Marius. It's about the movement", replied Enjolras calmly. "Look, everyone…what happened just now is a personal matter between Marius and myself. Whatever happens we'll work it out, one way or another. But we are a group, and we need to focus on our goals right now. Is everyone ready to move forward?"

"I am Enj", said Combeferre.

"Me too", said Bahorel.

"Count me in", added Jehan.

"Do I need to say it? I'm there". Feuilly said with a grin.

Enjolras sat back down at the table, encouraging – with a wave of his hand – the others to do the same.

Allowing them a moment to settle, he went on. "Let's continue. I'd like to suggest to Valjean that we contact other Occupy groups across the globe. What's happening in the United States is not limited to this country. There are Occupy groups elsewhere. We can be a stronger force for change if we have many threads in our network. Can we get a vote on this? Who is for contacting the international Occupy groups?"

They all raised their hand.

"Ok, good. Now, another issue that needs to be addressed is Eponine and Zuccotti. I've discussed the issue with Eponine as this mainly involves her. If Cooper asks me about Eponine, I'm going to acknowledge her as my partner…er girlfriend. As to what happened, we've decided to keep the line that the case is still under investigation. I did try to figure out a way to leave that situation out of it, but we all know it's a hot topic and they'll be looking for a scoop."

"As long as you're alright with this 'Ponine?" asked Jehan, looking over to her at the bar.

She shrugged. "I don't see how we can avoid it J, even if I wanted to. I figure Enj will navigate the questions as best he can though. "

"That's right. And Eponine will be coming to the meeting with us, though she has some business of her own with him. Eponine, did you want to tell the others?".

Eponine was surprised that Enjolras had brought it up with the group before talking it over with her, but came over and sat down with the rest of them.

"Sure. Well, it's quite simple. I have a proposal for Valjean and his organisation. I'd like to start my own food distribution not-for-profit for the homeless in the area. I've written a business plan and my meeting is scheduled after yours this afternoon".

"I think its wonderful 'Ponine", said Jehan, reaching over in his seat to give her a hug. "But does that mean you won't be spending as much time with us".

Eponine laughed. "Jehan, you are adorable. No, for the time being, I'll be happy to help Les Amis from the sidelines. I'll be working here for a while and supporting the cause like I've always done. Like you all, I've found my calling too".

"It seems we're all moving on", said Feuilly, a little sadly.

"It doesn't mean we've forgotten them", replied Combeferre wisely. "Can you imagine the scolding both of them would give us? Grantaire would tell us to get off our asses and Courfeyrac – well it just wouldn't go down well. Let's move forward with them in our hearts, eh lads?"

Enjolras again was grateful for the steady nature of his friend. He saw the way his words both inspired and settled them.

"You know what I'd like to do?" said Jehan. "I'd like to have a jam. Right now".

"We haven't got our instruments", said Joly.

"We've got our voices. Let's sing some Dylan. That was always my favourite warm-up", agreed Combeferre.

Enjolras sat down, a grin almost playing on his face. A faint air of the kinship they shared broke through like a beacon of light on all of them.

"Like a Rolling Stone? I'll start", he said. He cleared his throat then began, his voice clear but tinged with the roughness that made it so appealing;

_Once upon a time you dressed so fine  
__You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?  
__People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"  
__You thought they were all kiddin' you__  
_

_You used to laugh about  
__Everybody that was hangin' out  
__Now you don't talk so loud  
__Now you don't seem so proud  
__About having to be scrounging for your next meal.__  
_

_How does it feel  
__How does it feel  
__To be without a home  
__Like a complete unknown  
__Like a rolling stone?__  
_

They sang that way for the next hour, in harmony and moving from one song to the next; _Blowin' in the Wind_, _Talkin' 'bout a Revolution_, _Tambourine Man_ just to name a few. They revelled in their renewed brotherhood. Eponine stood by watching them, it was like a scene from the not too distant past, only a few of the players had changed.

By the time they were finished, a melding of hearts and minds had happened. Some of the fears of the group about their future had been soothed, and Bahorel and Joly finally had the feeling of being part of the group.

They were ready to move forward together, and bring their own unique form of activism with them.

Enjolras' faith was revived, but his thoughts turned to the one sheep missing from the flock. Les Amis would go on regardless, but hopefully it would not be without Marius.


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: **I have this picture in my mind of a modern day Valjean. He's not quite as worn down by the hardships of his life as the character in the book and film. He's still effecting change in the world and so I've infused him with a wry sense of humour. He's still gracious and kind but in that older body he still has a young man's enthusiasm. I hope that comes across. I also enjoyed writing about Valjean and Eponine. I can see him being as much of an idol for her as he is for Enjolras.

I know I thought this wouldn't be updated for a little while but the muse came late last night, and you don't monkey with the muse ;-)

I'd also like to thank all of you that have offered their condolences. My uncles was sick for a long time, and my only solace is that now his suffering is over. Thank you again. xx

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_One Day I'll Fly Away" the lyrics are from the Moulin Rouge! version by Nicole Kidman. I used this in reference to Eponine but not her romantic entanglement, this is relating to her past life, the Thenardiers. And she really has flown away...finally._

* * *

**Chapter 39**

_I follow the night  
__Can't stand the light  
__When will I begin to live again?__  
_

_One day I'll fly away  
__Leave all this to yesterday  
__What more could your "love" do for me  
__When will love be through with me  
__Why live life from dream to dream  
__And dread the day when dreaming ends__  
_

_One day I'll fly away  
__Leave all this to yesterday  
__Why live life from dream to dream  
__And dread the day when dreaming ends__  
_

_One day I'll fly away  
__Fly fly away...__  
_

* * *

The building that housed Valjean's organisation was a green building, one of the finest of its type in New York City. A visually simple building, its exterior belied the focus that had gone into the interior architecture. The building was virtually airtight and thus extremely well-insulated, required ninety-percent less heating and cooling. It was designed and constructed to function as elegantly and efficiently as a flower.

Valjean was as careful of his footprint on the earth as he was in the care of the human beings who trod upon it with him. The tiles in the building were made from recycled glass, the furniture and any wooden artifices were, as much as possible made from sustainable bamboo. The windows were large, allowing as much natural light into the workspaces as possible. And everywhere, there was greenery, inside in every corner, but especially on the roof where an inner-city forest sat side by side with the solar panels that had recently been installed.

There was no elevator. None was necessary. The building was low-level by New York standards, a mere three stories. . There was a lift for disabled access but employees and visitors alike were encouraged to walk. The previous building was derelict and Valjean had seen to it that even after the demolition of it, the bricks had been repurposed.

As Eponine sat with Les Amis in the foyer, she recognised two familiar faces from Common Ground and realised that Valjean must be employing from the ranks of the homeless he'd encountered. _If only I had such a man as a father._ She bit back the thought as soon as it materialised. She didn't know Valjean, not really. She only knew _of_ him and how kind he'd been to her in the aftermath of the shooting, and obviously to others like her in need. But still, she wondered how different her life had been if she'd had differing parental figures.

Enjolras was seated at the far edge of a sofa opposite her. He was looking out the window, lips pursed in a familiar pose that indicated he was deep in thought. The rest of the group were composed and quiet. Joly and Bahorel were chatting in low voices amongst themselves while Combeferre and Jehan were perusing various charity flyers on the tables. Feuilly was twiddling his fingers impatiently.

Eponine looked around at the sound of heavy footsteps in the stairwell. Revealing himself slowly as he came down the steps, Valjean was even more imposing a man than he'd been at the rally. She took him in again. Very tall and well over six feet, he was a still-handsome man though he was obviously over sixty and greying at the temples. His face was lined but his eyes were intelligent and kind. It was easy to see why many found him so engaging.

It was to Eponine he spoke first as she stood to meet him. "Hello dear Eponine, how are you?" he asked grasping her hand with both of his huge, bear-like ones. "I hear you spent some time away recovering from the incident a few days ago?"

"I did. I'm much better. I'm ready to get on with my life."

"That's the spirit. I look forward to our meeting today". He moved down the line to Enjolras, shaking his hand. "Enjolras, good to see you. Prepared to take on CNN and the world?"

"We are as ready as I believe we'll ever be. May I introduce two new members of Les Amis to you Valjean? This is Joly and Bahorel. You may remember their faces from the rally. It seems not only are they good Samaritans but supporters of the cause, and as such Les Amis has gladly welcomed them".

"I'm sure you'll be fruitful additions to the band. Very nice to meet you both". Valjean smiled as he got to Jehan, Feuilly and Combeferre.

"Hello lads, how are you all? It seems an eternity, doesn't it since last we met? Full of fervour for the cause? Remember to stay tender-hearted, despite your battles, that is the hardest battle of all, is it not Eponine?" he asked, turning to her and smiling.

"Yes, I suppose it is, Valjean", she said quietly, wondering why she was singled out by him.

"I'm so glad you're all here. Truly. It gives an old man hope for the future. But I must ask, where is Marius?"

Enjolras took a step forward, choosing his words carefully. "Marius was unable to attend today Valjean, but it _is_ relevant to something I wish to speak you about, perhaps after our meetings?"

Valjean was nothing if not an astute man. "Of course, of course. Let us attend our business. It's a lovely New York afternoon and time is getting away from us. Eponine I'll be with you right after I speak with Enjolras and the group. In the meantime, there are some organic chocolate cookies in that cupboard that Nancy will be happy to share with you, right Nancy?".

The receptionist nodded at him and smiled at Eponine. "Of course Valjean. Whenever you get hungry Eponine, help yourself".

"Gentleman, shall we?" asked Valjean. Enjolras nodded and the group followed Valjean up the stairs and out of sight from Eponine.

* * *

Valjean showed them into a boardroom with a view to the street not far below them. Enjolras immediately noticed the setup of the room. It wasn't intimidating. A large wooden – recycled timber he guessed – table was in the middle. But the table was round. There was no leader and when he sat down he knew immediately why; Valjean wanted each person at the table to feel equal. It was so simple a design and so in keeping with Valjean's personality that Enjolras marvelled at it. He wondered if he would be so generous. _Shouldn't I be? Wouldn't I be?_ Something about it brought an image of Marius to his mind.

Valjean settled into his seat, touching his hand to his mouth in thought. "Ok, let's begin. I feel we're already on the same page, but I do want you all to know I understand we are not a single entity. That Valjean and Les Amis are not one, and that I am in no way trying to take over the good work you've all begun".

"Valjean, that's not necessary – " Enjolras started.

"But it is. You are young men. Young men with fire in your blood. And you've endured so much already for the cause, and personally. I just want to reassure each and every one of you that it is not my intention, nor the intention of my organisation to take away any progress you've made and claim it for our own. From my point of view, we are two like-minded organisations, uniting for the same cause. I have at my disposal - through the course of luck, the kindness of others and hard work – the means to help you, and helping you, helps my own organisation. But you are not bound to me. We are equal, all of us. Okay?" he said, finishing with a grin.

Enjolras looked around to the rest of Les Amis, and what he saw in their eyes confirmed his own thoughts. "You are more than generous Valjean. And I think I speak for the rest of the group when I thank you, and your words _do_ mean a lot to us. It's important that Les Amis remain in control of its own destiny".

"I wouldn't have expected anything less. Now, let's get down to nuts and bolts".

* * *

The meeting with Valjean was relatively quick at just over an hour and a half. Their shared values were so closely aligned that the plotting out of their next moves was just a matter of voicing it and having it agreed upon by Valjean or alternatively by the group.

Valjean supported their view regarding the need for another concert, and soon, while the Occupy crowds were still in the city and support for the cause was at a peak. Except that he wanted to go bigger. Several high profile media personalities had voiced their name in support and Valjean advised that getting them to the concert would get them more press, perhaps it would even be televised.

Enjolras and Jehan had agreed but wanted to filter which personalities would appear. No faux supporters, no Kardashian-esque celebs looking for a quick ticket to fame. Valjean had laughed and asked what a Kardashian was but agreed in theory; no pretenders.

As to Enjolras and his idea to hook –up all the Occupy movements worldwide, again Valjean agreed but noted several groups were already connected. "We need to strengthen ties", he said.

"Could we do a _worldwide_ concert?" asked Combeferre.

Enjolras and Valjean looked at him for a moment like he speaking another language. "Yes!", they both said in unison. Combeferre looked almost frightened by their ferocity.

"It's a brilliant idea 'Ferre", said Enjolras. "Valjean, I think Combeferre and Feuilly should be involved in contacting the other agencies. Together they are a formidable team. Feuilly is a real man of the people, and I mean that in the most generous sense".

The two men said nothing but were full of admiration for their chief. He did not give out compliments easily and this praise from him was of the highest order, entrusting them with something so important. In fact, it made them nervous as well as excited.

"I agree, we'll get them involved with the team. None of you will be left out in the cold. We'll work it into your obligations to the group". Valjean looked around the table. "Are you all _really_ ready for how your lives will change after this? These concerts…these interviews… if we do it right will change all your lives. This is going to be _big_".

Enjolras was the first to speak. "I've been working towards something like this since the day I could spell revolution", he said quietly. "And these men beside me have as well" he added, indicating Combeferre, Feuilly and Jehan. "Joly, Bahorel, are you with us?"

"Hell yes", said Bahorel.

"It's what I signed up for", Joly added.

"Then let's finish the rest of the meeting, and start moving forward with the concert. I think we should bring it to the attention of the media with the CNN interview and roll from there", said Valjean.

"Agreed", said Enjolras.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Eponine finally heard the cacophony of their footsteps making their way down the wooden staircase. Enjolras was the first to make a full appearance and immediately she blinked at the expression on his face – he was exhilarated. Everything about him looked refreshed. His eyes had the familiar sparkle and fire of old, and she was sure he had more spring in his step.

"It went well?" she asked as he approached her.

"It went _very _well", he nodded. The others wandered over to where they were, and all of them had the same air of hope around them. She prayed it was catching, hope was a disease she wouldn't mind being infected with.

Valjean looked over their heads to the slight girl with the big notebook.

"Eponine, are you ready to take the meeting?" he asked. The group parted as she made her way through them. Turning back she caught the eye of Enjolras, who gave her a discreet smile and mouthed "Good luck", as she followed Valjean back up the stairs, to the waiting meeting room.

* * *

"Please, take a seat Eponine", said Valjean. Rather than having the meeting in the boardroom, which would have been ridiculous given there was only two of them, Valjean decided to hold his meeting with Eponine in his own office. It held a warmth to it that calmed her nerves. There were pictures of Cosette, not front and centre on display but tucked away in the corners of his bookshelf. And a singular photo of a woman with very short hair that Eponine did not recognise.

"That's Fantine, Cosette's mother", said Valjean.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude".

"Nonsense, I invited you into my office. It's only natural you look around. Would you like some water before we begin?" He gestured not to the large desk but to a small round table with two comfortable looking chairs on either side. She took a seat as he sat down opposite her.

"No, thank you, I'm fine", she said.

"Alright then. I've read over the proposal you faxed to the office this morning and- "

"Valjean, I didn't fax you a copy of my proposal". Eponine's face was frozen and she sat still in her seat.

He leaned forward over his table and handed her a bound stack of paper.

"This is not yours?" he asked, frowning.

She looked at the document. It _was_ hers. All of it.

"It is mine. Valjean I didn't send this to you. Was there a cover page on the fax?" She blinked her eyes hard. She knew who had sent it.

"Yes, it should be stapled to the back of the document, the last page".

She flicked to the back. A flourished, handwritten note graced the covering page of the fax.

_Dear Valjean, please find attached an advanced copy of the proposal for the meeting today, _

_yours sincerely._

"It's not signed", she said.

"No, but on seeing the attached document, I assumed it was from you and had one of my staff bind it for me. Is this going to be a problem? "

"No, no it's not. I believe a friend of mine has sent this to you, a mutual friend actually, thinking they were helping me. I apologise". She swallowed her anger_. It had to be Enjolras_. Now was not the time. _Don't mess this up Eponine. You want this._

"Not necessary. I will say again that I have read over the proposal already, and I'm interested. But Eponine, I'd like to know something of _you_. Marius has told me briefly of your life, and I believe we have some commonality. Tell me, what drives you to start this work?"

"Well, I left my family when I was very young. They weren't very kind to me, you see", she said, choosing her words carefully. "And I was on the streets from the time I was fifteen. If not for the help of organisations like Common Ground, whose work I know you are familiar with, and of course being given a chance by people like Grantaire…". She took a breath at his name. "If not for people like them, I really don't know what would have become of me. Perhaps I would have reverted to the life my parents had set for me".

"I see. I need to ask you Eponine. Do you think your recent attack will impede any business decisions? I don't mean to pry but I need to know".

"No. In fact, if anything it's made me more determined to carry on. My father's crew are products of not being able to escape the streets. And while they don't gain my sympathy, I understand how one's life can take such a turn. May I ask _you_ a question?"

Valjean looked startled and his eyebrow raised of its own accord, something he rectified immediately.

"Of course, Eponine".

"Has the attack on me influenced _your _decision-making?"

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean".

"I mean, taking Cosette away from the danger - away from Marius. It's why Marius isn't here today. He had an argument with Enjolras but I fear the heart of the matter is his distress at not being able to see your daughter".

"I appreciate your frankness, Eponine but – ". He fingered a small pin on the lapel of his jacket.

"Please Valjean, I know it's not my place, but believe me you cannot shield her from the realities of this world. You are a good man and from what I know of Cosette she seems to me to be a good person. She will only rebel against you in this. Isn't it better to trust her? Marius would die before he let something happen to her. Those boys, that group… there are none who would protect her more".

"Do you see this pin, Eponine? It's a bird. A lark. Fantine used to wear it to remind her of Cosette, and now I wear it for the same reason. She is the only thing good I have in this world".

"Then don't let this come between you."

Valjean took her in; the earnest eyes, the honest pleading in her words. "I will consider it. Thank you for your frankness. Eponine… there is something else I wish to know".

"Yes", she replied. _What now?_

"When you were on the grift, what was your favourite trick?"

"You want to know _that_?"

He leaned forward, grinning.

"There is no other I could discuss it with", he said.

She smiled at the older man in spite of herself. "You tell me yours first".

"Very well" he said. "My favourite was to watch the Laundromat where the local bakery had their uniforms cleaned. It was so simple. I'd wait till they unloaded then simply take one from the back of the truck while it was unattended. And then I would use it to offload bread. You have no idea how many hundreds of people I fed. And I regret to say, I enjoyed pulling a fast one. Now you".

"Hmm", mused Eponine, pursing her lips as she scoured her memory. "Bearing in mind of course that those days are far behind me, and like you I wish to have a higher calling – my personal favourite was ripping off an unsuspecting toff of his favourite watch or piece of jewellery – particularly if he was known to be rude to the poor. I used to be pretty nimble with my fingers".

Valjean stifled a laugh but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. "You know Eponine. I think it's experience like ours that makes us the best at helping others. We know what it's like, you and I".

"I wish I didn't know sometimes", she said.

He reached across and grasped her hand. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But it also makes you _wiser_. Remember that".

She thought on that for a moment: "I hope so".

"Alright, I think we're done here", said Valjean, rising from his chair.

'But, but don't you want to talk to me any further about the grant? About the proposal?" asked Eponine as she got to her feet.

"No. I have enough information to make a decision".

Eponine tried hard not to look crestfallen as she reached out and shook his hand. "Thank you so much for seeing me Valjean. I hope that whatever decision you come to, that someday I can help people the way you have".

He shook her hand warmly, and Eponine walked towards the door, taking a deep breath.

"Eponine?"

"Yes?"

"I cannot stand it, child. I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you but I cannot. I have decided to approve your grant. Our conversation was a mere formality. I needed to see if you had the nerve to take this on".

"And now?"

"My dear girl, you are a formidable force. A veritable whirlwind in a contained unit. Our community will be lucky to have you working in their favour. Come by tomorrow and we'll sign the necessary paperwork".

She tried to remain professional and couldn't. A large grin broke out on her face, and like many others before him, he saw how alive it made her features.

"Thank you so much. It means _everything_ to me".

"I know it does. Now go home and have a good night's rest. You have the grant to sign tomorrow and Enjolras has the CNN interview".

"Of course", she said, before turning back to him. "And Valjean? Catch!"

Across the room to him flew the tiniest of object, if not for his quick response he would not have seen it nor caught it.

But catch it he did, and even before he opened his hand he knew what it held. He raised his head quickly but Eponine was already gone and halfway down the hall.

Feeling its weight, he peeled back his fingers, exposing the lark pin in the middle of his palm.

Eponine was standing at the top of the stairs when she heard it. A loud, explosive laugh that echoed out of the room it's owner was in and grabbed her where she stood, bringing a grin to her own lips.

"I shall see you soon, dear Eponine". She heard his smiling voice boom along the corridor as she descended the steps, and she laughed softly.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **So I've done the final storyboard for this fic during the week, and it's going to round out at about 50-55 chapters, depending on a few factors. Readership of the story is declining so that also plays into it, but I also want to have a fully rounded out ending so people don't feel cheated.

I've already partially storyboarded a Graceland fic (I'm an AT fan if you haven't already guessed fellow readers)

Events around the world continue to influence this fic – the Occupy Movement is alive and well in in varying forms around the world as we speak. As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Brothers in Arms ", Dire Straits_

* * *

**Chapter 40**

_Through these fields of destruction  
__Baptisms of fire  
__I've witnessed your suffering  
__As the battle raged high  
__And though they did hurt me so bad  
__In the fear and alarm  
__You did not desert me  
__My brothers in arms__  
_

_There's so many different worlds  
__So many different suns  
__And we have just one world  
__But we live in different ones  
__Now the sun's gone to hell  
__And the moon riding high  
__Let me bid you farewell  
__Every man has to die__  
_

_But it's written in the starlight  
__And every line in your palm  
__We're fools to make war  
__On our brothers in arms__  
_

- "_Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits_

* * *

The rays of the sun illuminated the group as they walked down the street and away from Valjean's office. Even the usually stern Enjolras allowed himself a rare public smile. People occasionally turned to stare at them as they basked in the success of their meeting, so notable was their exuberance. Each member of the group now carried within them a flame of hope they hadn't felt since Zucotti and the deaths of Courfeyrac and Grantaire.

As they made their way down the sidewalk, they moved in small groups; Enjolras and Combeferre at the head, followed by Joly and Bahorel and lastly Jehan, Eponine and Feuilly at the rear.

Eponine had her arms linked through the men on either side of her. Her face was beginning to ache from her constant smiling. _Valjean had approved the grant_. At last a dream all of her own had come true. She blinked hard at what she'd achieved, and what was to come. _A life of my own making. A good and decent life. I'm really doing it. _

As the thoughts ran through her head, she caught sight of Enjolras' blonde curls several metres in front of her. The only fly in the ointment. _Why had he done it? _As far as Eponine had ascertained during the meeting with Valjean, her document hadn't been changed, merely faxed over ahead of time. But her blood boiled at him. He was the leader of Les Amis but he was not _her_ leader. It was this that got under her skin more than anything. She'd assumed they were partners, choosing to be together. She'd already had so many men assuming control of her life that the very thought of this admittedly small misstep on his part affronted her possibly more than it normally should have.

She thought back briefly to her moment of triumph as she had come down the stairs immediately following the meeting with Valjean. Her grin had been wider than the Pacific Ocean, as had been those that had greeted her. Enjolras had hugged her, and she had hugged him back as the others had crowded around her to congratulate her as well, but he'd obviously caught a look in her eye because he'd been noticeably wary of her ever since. _He knows what's coming._

By the time the group had left Valjean's offices it was nearing close to seven-thirty. Taking the older man's advice Eponine decided on going home early rather than with the others to celebrate at a local pub. Despite their protestations, they congratulated her again on her victory, all of them telling her they'd see her tomorrow, and watch the CNN interview as a group to which she agreed.

"I'll see you at home?" said Enjolras.

"Of course", Eponine smiled thinly at him.

* * *

Enjolras arrived home only an hour or so after she did. He'd thought better of going out with the group. He was not really a drinker, he wanted to be rested and clear-headed for the interview - and besides he figured the situation at home should be sorted out sooner rather than later.

He put his newly made key in the door, and it was only due to his fitness and quick reflexes that he ducked in time to miss the plate that crashed next to his head, falling in pieces on the floor beside him.

"What the hell!?"

"Damn you!" he heard from across the room. "I _know_ you sent that fax!"

"Calm down Eponine!" he said ducking again as an egg flew in his direction, before smashing near the front door.

"For Christ's sake!" He put down his arms that he'd been shielding himself with and looked for her in the room. His eyes finally found her in the kitchen. She was weighing up a punnet of strawberries in her hand. It was obvious what she intended to do with them.

"Don't you dare!"

"Oh no, you don't get to scold me. Not now", she said, moving on to the pineapple on the bench.

"For goodness sake! Think of the fruit salad!", he said, grasping at anything to avoid the prickly fruit being thrown at his head.

That got to her. The ridiculousness of what he'd said causing an escape of giggles from her even as she furiously tried to suppress them.

"I _hate_ you", she said, her face contorting through phases of laughter and anger.

"I'm the love of your life".

"Enjolras, you're a cocky shithead", she shot back.

"Eponine, your words enthrall and delight me". He wasn't going to give in. Conversational duels were his forte'.

"You're not taking me seriously!"

"I'll start taking this conversation _seriously_, when you can refrain from throwing my dessert at me".

Eponine looked at the pineapple in her hands before ruefully placing it back on the bench. "You betrayed me. Goddamn it Enj." Eponine gathered her thoughts as she contemplated the bowl of mandarins beside her as useful missiles.

"Eponine I sent a fax, that's all".

At his words, his confession, she picked up a mandarin and pegged it squarely at him, where it found its mark, hitting him in the shoulder.

He was frowning now, a crease between his eyes, and his lips pursing. "Ow! Eponine, don't you feel this, this _waste_ is in direct opposition to your proposal and new business?

"Arrghh, you're infuriating. _Listen_ to me!"

Enjolras crossed his arms and leaned back on the door. "You're going to be the chairman or the CEO or the _head_ of an organisation in the very near future. Is _this_ how you're going to resolve your issues?"

"Only the ones I have with _you_", she said. Realising how silly this was getting she exhaled, quietly looking at her feet, still exasperated with him. Finally after what seemed like an eternity to him, she raised her head, the faint stitches still visible to him under her jaw.

"Enjolras, why do you connect with Valjean?" she asked. Surprised by the sudden calmness in her voice and the gentleness of her tone, he contemplated the question.

"Because we share the same ideals and – "

"No. I mean _yes_, of course, but it's more than that isn't it? I'm willing to bet he mentioned autonomy to you?"

Enjolras looked perplexed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because if you looked a little closer, you'd see Valjean and I share – "

"Of course I know you have similarities but - " Enjolras interrupted.

"If you'll let me finish. I _know_ he would have mentioned it because he knows what it's like to feel as if you have no voice, when decisions about your life are taken from your hands."

Enjolras exhaled, letting the tension run from his body. "That was not my intention. You cannot believe that".

Eponine took a step closer to him. "No, I don't. But after enduring a voiceless existence, any infringement can feel magnified".

Her words humbled him, putting paid to any argument he might have had. "I thought only of helping you".

"I _know_", she said softly. "But let me put it this way; if Valjean had acted on _your_ behalf, without _your _consent, even if his motivations were pure….?"

"I concede. I would not appreciate it."

Her body relaxed at that. "Thank you. I actually think sending it over _was_ a good idea. It made my meeting much smoother. But next time, just run things by me. This is the one thing I have for myself".

"You have me".

"You know what I mean, Enj".

"I do. I _am_ sorry. I don't want to argue any more. I'd like very much to kiss you and you're making it difficult".

She laughed at his vulnerability, if only because it was so rare.

"You wound me Eponine", he said, his hand on his heart, daring to step closer to her.

"You are a terrible faker. And terribly cocky. I meant _that_. And you think you're the love of my life?", she asked.

He was in front of her now, reaching to grasp the top of her jeans and pulling her closer to him.

"Tell me it isn't so, and I shall name you Liar", he said roughly, touching one finger to her jaw as he tilted her face to him, brushing his lips gently against hers.

"I'm very young, who knows what the future may hold?" she whispered, smiling as she felt him urge her backwards till she was flush against the counter.

"You're teasing me", he said.

"A little", was all she could manage to respond before feeling his lips part hers and kiss her passionately, claiming her and laying waste to her words. She inhaled sharply as she felt his hands sliding underneath her shirt, massaging her hips before finding their way upwards.

"Aren't you supposed to rest before the interview?" she managed to ask.

"We can rest…._later_".

* * *

A few hours later, their shared laughter echoed through the apartment as they shared a late night hot chocolate.

"You really stole his pin?" asked a shocked but amused Enjolras, as Eponine leaned up against him on the sofa, resting herself against his chest.

"I was always going to give it back, I just…I don't know…I feel a real connection to Jean. There are not many people I could be so bold or so honest with. I think he gets me. In some ways, our lives have mirrored each other's. I feel pretty good being aligned with him and his organisation. Don't you?"

He nodded his head. "I do. Not for the same reasons but there is something reassuring about his presence. I don't think he says anything lightly".

"You share some of his qualities, though you're far fierier in your approach".

"I cannot change it".

"I wouldn't want you to. I think you and Valjean complement each other. The calm and the fury. The ice and the fire".

Behind her, he grinned into her hair, liking the idea.

They were both startled by a sudden banging on the apartment door.

"We never reconnected the intercom", said Eponine, panic rising in her voice.

"It's ok, 'Ponine. I'll take care of it". Enjolras eased her from him, then walked slowly to the door.

"Who's there?" he asked loudly, squaring his shoulders as if for a fight.

"Enjolras? It's me, it's Marius", came the response.

* * *

Enjolras unlocked the door, first the large new security bolt, followed by the simple sliding latch. When first he saw Marius' face, he knew something had changed. Gone was the sad, almost sullen look that had marked him this past week. His eyes were bright.

"I'm sorry to call on you so late. I came to thank you", he said to Enjolras.

"Thank me? For what?"

"Did you not speak with Valjean today? Cosette called me a few hours ago; Valjean has agreed to let her see me again". He hugged an unwitting Enjolras to his chest.

"I could kiss you, Enj!" he said, continuing to hug the other man to him.

"Well..just hold off on that for a moment. Marius, I didn't get to speak with Valjean today".

Marius' face dropped. "You didn't? But someone must have. Valjean said he had a conversation today that changed his mind. I just assumed after what you said…".

"No, I told you it wasn't me. But I would have Marius. It was hard knowing where to bring it up".

A cough behind the men made both of them turn.

Realisation struck Marius. "'Ponine was it _you_?"

She nodded. "I spoke very quickly with Valjean on the matter today. He is a good man, Marius. He only wants what is best for Cosette, but he knows her heart. I believe that is why he changed his mind. I didn't know it would happen so quickly however. He was only scared of her getting hurt – like I was hurt".

"I owe both of you an apology", Marius said shamefacedly. "The thought of not seeing her, of not talking to her... it marred my judgement ".

"You don't have to explain", said Enjolras. "Eponine and I understand".

Marius looked from one face to the other. "Those things I said, those things about you not knowing love…".

Enjolras offered him a half smile. "Let us not talk of it. Would you like a hot chocolate? We can talk about the meeting today. I can fill you in – if you're still willing to be part of Les Amis?" Enjolras' offer was sincere. Marius was a good contributor to the group and Enjolras hoped that now the issue with Cosette had been resolved for the most part, that Marius might return with renewed focus.

"Just like that? I'm back in?"

"Unless you require a ceremony? Now is not the time for quarrelling. You're my brother, as the rest are my brothers. And as brothers at times we shall disagree. But we are _always_ family".

Marius turned to look at Eponine. She raised an eyebrow and nodded at him.

"Thank you, Enj. Thank you for making it easy for me to resume being part of the group".

Enjolras walked into the living room, hand on his chin, deep in thought. "Marius?" said Enjolras. "I need you to work with Valjean's team on local marketing. Could you do that? The others will all have roles as well. This won't infringe on your duties with Les Amis".

"You'd entrust that to me?" Marius asked.

"Yes. I need you. I need all of you on-board. When I'm out there speaking for us, I need to know that I have your support".

Marius grabbed his hand, shaking it. "I'll do it. I'll do whatever we need to do".


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: **The bands and actors noted as supporting the Occupy Movement were/_are_ actual supporters of the movement. I had a really good time writing this chapter – I hope everyone reading can feel it.

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Do You Hear the People Sing?" Les Mis Cast (2012 movie)_

"_Hall of Fame", by The Script (feat. Will I. Am)_

* * *

**Chapter 41**

_Yeah, you can be the greatest  
You can be the best  
You can be the King Kong banging on your chest_

_You could beat the world_  
_You could beat the war_  
_You could talk to God, go banging on his door_

_You can throw your hands up_  
_You can beat the clock (yeah)_  
_You can move a mountain_  
_You can break rocks_  
_You can be a master_  
_Don't wait for luck_  
_Dedicate yourself and you goin' find yourself_

_Standing in the hall of fame (yeah)_  
_And the world's gonna know your name (yeah)_  
_'Cause you burn with the brightest flame (yeah)_  
_And the world's gonna know your name (yeah)_  
_And you'll be on the walls of the hall of fame_

_You can go the distance_  
_You can run the mile_  
_You can walk straight through hell with a smile_

_You could be the hero_  
_You could get the gold_  
_Breaking all the records they thought never could be broke_

_Yeah, do it for your people_  
_Do it for your pride_  
_How you ever gonna know if you never even try?_

_Do it for your country_  
_Do it for your name_  
_'Cause there's gonna be a day..._

_When you're standing in the hall of fame (yeah)_  
_And the world's gonna know your name (yeah)_  
_'Cause you burn with the brightest flame (yeah)_  
_And the world's gonna know your name (yeah)_  
_And you'll be on the walls of the hall of fame_

_Be a champion, be a champion, be a champion, be a champion_  
_On the walls of the hall of fame_

_Be students_  
_Be teachers_  
_Be politicians_  
_Be preachers_  
_(Yeah)_

_Be believers_  
_Be leaders_  
_Be astronauts_  
_Be champions_  
_Be truth seekers_

_(You can be a champion)_  
_You can move a mountain_  
_(You can be a champion)_  
_You can break rocks_

_Standing in the hall of fame_

_ - "__Hall of Fame", by The Script (feat. Will I. Am)_

* * *

_7.30pm_

Enjolras was sitting in the green room of CNN's studios in New York City, located in the Time Warner Building on Columbus Circle. He'd dressed in his usual attire, though with a bit more care than usual. He wore a white collared shirt, left open at the top three buttons as was his habit, showing a sign of sparse chest hair. Completing his outfit was a dark maroon leather jacket, tailored black pants and his usual scuffed black boots which he'd polished for the occasion. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly messed and his dark blue eyes were glinting with expectation. Though he was calm, his stomach did the occasional flip-flop, when what he was about to do came to him like a merry-go-round in his mind. Outwardly he appeared as serene as the lake in Central Park – if that lake sat atop a smouldering volcano caldera.

He flicked his eyes across the room to where Valjean was. The elder gentleman was pacing, a tense expression on his face.

"Jean? _Jean_ are you quite alright?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I'm fine, thank you Enjolras", he replied, rubbing his hands together." Now, we're clear how we're going to progress? Anderson will meet us in a few moments. I've given him a brief of what we're going to talk about, just so he knows where and how to direct his questions".

"I'm sure we'll both be fine. Our direction is clear".

"I know you're used to a certain amount of fire in your speeches. But remember our audience is perhaps more moderate than those already invested in the cause".

"I'm aware. But I can only be who I am, Jean", he said firmly.

"Of course, of course".

Enjolras gave him a concerned look. "You're not worried about _me_, are you? I assure you, I'll be staying on message. Relax. Let me make you a tea".

"I didn't mean to offend you Enjolras, this is a very big – "

"A very big deal. I know. Rest your mind. We're going to be great".

Jean Valjean smiled at the young man in front of him. Sometimes he wondered which one of them was the wiser.

* * *

At the same time, in the Village, the rest of the group sat inside the darkened walls of The Musain. Eponine had signed the legal documents at Valjean's office earlier in the day. By the end of the following week, funds would be released and she could begin building the foundations of her charitable work. Valjean had not been present at the signing but the warm congratulations of his staff once the legalities were over with more than made up for it. She was welcomed into the fold like an old friend, and given a security pass into the building so she could use the facilities if she so needed. She looked into her wallet, pulling out the AMEX card in her new company's name: _The Village Harvest_, with her name - Ms Eponine Jondrette written underneath. It was only for strictly monitored purchases, but just carrying it gave her purpose.

"Are you nervous Eponine?" said Jehan's voice beside her.

"Me? About the interview? No. They can both handle themselves. I'm more excited than anything. You?"

"I admit, I'm a little tense", he replied.

They were sitting in a cluster, the bar was open but tonight The Musain was filled almost exclusively with supporters of the group and the Occupy Movement. Two large screen televisions had been setup on opposite sides of the large room, elevated so everyone in the bar could see when one of their own made his television debut.

"How much longer till they come on?", asked Combeferre.

"The show is live, it starts at eight o'clock and from what Enjolras said they're the lead story, so probably first up, in about five minutes give or take", said Feuilly.

"Did you all turn your phones off or on silent like Enjolras asked?" questioned Marius. "The press are going to be trying to get in touch with everyone after this, if The Chief is right".

Cosette, Eponine and Bahorel gave each other sheepish smiles before reaching into their jackets and pulling out their phones, and hitting the silent option.

"I wish G and Courf' were here to see it", Eponine said quietly, almost to herself.

They'd all heard her though. Marius stood up and raised his glass in the air. "Let's have a toast to them. Fallen but not forgotten".

"Fallen but not forgotten". The phrase echoed not only from the group but around the bar.

They turned to the TV screen where CNN was just coming back from a quick station break. The familiar opening scenes of _Anderson Cooper 360° _were playing.

"Here we go", muttered Joly, scratching his head nervously.

"Ssshhhhhhhh!" implored Jehan to the audience gathered in the bar. A hushed silence came over them as Anderson Cooper's voice was heard over images of the Occupy Wall Street protests appeared on screen in a montage.

* * *

"The images you see before you represent the Occupy Wall Street movement. The demonstrations, which began in New York two weeks ago, have already spread to Los Angeles, Boston, Chicago, Denver and Seattle. The arrests of 700 people have only strengthened the resolve of protesters in New York, who have been camped out for the past fortnight and held mass gatherings".

The screen changed to that of Anderson Cooper who was now addressing his live TV audience "We are very fortunate tonight to have two of the movement's leader's here with us. Among other things we'll be discussing alongside Occupy Wall Street, is the tragic shooting that occurred in Zuccotti Park, and where the movement sees itself heading. So, let's introduce these two gentlemen to the rest of the world; Jean Valjean, more commonly known simply as Valjean, and Enjolras, leader of New York underground band Les Amis and fellow Occupy leader. Welcome to the programme".

"Thank you for having us", said Valjean.

"Firstly, what is it with you guys and having only one name? Valjean and Enjolras?Like Madonna? Or perhaps given the circumstances…like Gandhi?"

"Madonna _has_ been very influential to pop culture, but if we have to choose between the two, I'd say we'd take the Gandhi comparison, as you can understand Anderson", Enjolras laughed.

"Fair enough", smiled Anderson. "Valjean, if I can begin with you, what do you see out there in the young faces you stand alongside?"

"Well, I'll answer that question by first saying it's a myth that only young people are involved in the Occupy Movement. I see middle class people, retirees, young people, black, white, Asian, hipsters, folk artists, students, war veterans, black bloc anarchists, hippies, punks, professionals, feminists. It's a mix representing different subcultures and political groups from all over America, with all its respect for diversity. We have a lot of support coming from _official _quarters, despite what the press may say. New York City Council member Ydanis Rodriguez spoke just this week at a gathering. I see people like _me_", he grinned, "Old people like me who see the last vestiges of this great country going down the drain due to greed and overuse of our resources".

"And Enjolras, what is _you_ see and hear?"

Enjolras shifted in his seat, running his hand through his blonde locks.

"Honestly, I see _hope_", he said. "There is nothing stronger than people power and people working together for a united goal – a better country and globally speaking – a better world. This is a true grassroots movement that's taken hold on Internet and social-media platforms without one particular leader, even as you sit here interviewing Valjean and I as leaders. We merely represent the voices of _many_. It's closer to true democracy than probably _anything_ before its time," he said.

Anderson thought on his response before questioning Enjolras again.

"And what do you say to those who deride the movement?"

Enjolras looked directly at the camera, his dark blue eyes blazing. Eponine and the others felt their hearts leap into the mouth.

"I would say fighting for liberty, justice and equality are about as American as you can get. Are you _really_ against that?"

The camera panned back to Anderson who looked decidedly impressed. "Ok, on that note, we're going to take a short break before we return to continue our interview with the voices of the Occupy Movement, Valjean and Enjolras".

* * *

When they returned Anderson went on to a more personal level with both men.

"I know these subjects are still quite raw and fresh for both of you, so we'll aim to be as brief as we can. I have to ask these questions mainly because when we announced both of you as our guests tonight, we were inundated by people wanting to know more about both of you".

Anderson took a brief pause before turning to the older man. "Valjean as the elder statesman of the movement, you've hidden your identity from the public for a long time. Why did you choose to make yourself known at the rally in Zuccotti Park?"

"I've used my anonymity to try and encourage good deeds in the community. Sometimes, having a face to the cause can dilute the message. But for the rally in Zuccotti Park, I felt so strongly about the movement, and about what people like Enjolras here were trying to do that I wanted to have as much attention, and as much of an audience as we could possibly get. If that meant I had to expose myself in the process then that was a price I was willing to pay".

Anderson scratched his chin in thought before asking his next question. "And how did that go down with your daughter, Cosette? I understand she was not aware of your double life?"

"She was understandably shaken at first, but we've managed to work through it. In fact, Cosette is now involved with the movement to a small degree. She's a fine young woman, with a very good heart. She understands her father better than he understands himself at times", he smiled.

"Is it true you're under investigation by the NYPD for your earlier indiscretions as an alleged instigator of some earlier protests that turned violent?"

Valjean coughed before continuing. "I don't want to disparage the NYPD who quite frankly have been nothing but supportive, particularly during the tragedy in Zuccotti Park and events afterwards, but there is an officer that has shown a particular interest in my affairs, yes".

"Are you concerned that this might end up in court?"

"I have nothing to fear from the truth", said Valjean firmly.

"You mentioned the tragedy in Zuccotti Park. Enjolras, turning to you now I'd like to ask some questions about what happened that day at the rally".

Enjolras shifted slightly in his seat, getting comfortable and taking a deep breath. "Of course. I'd just like to preface that my answers might regrettably be short as the whole matter is still under investigation by the NYPD".

Anderson gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll keep that in mind. First of all, the young men who were tragically shot and killed that day were members of Les Amis?"

Enjolras nodded. "Their names were Courfeyrac and Grantaire. They were fine men, non-violent men. Courfeyrac was in the band, and Grantaire was one of our supporters – and one of the best barmen in the city I might add".

"And they were shot because of their beliefs in the movement?" Anderson pushed.

"No, that was not the reason. Their deaths were the results of a senseless vendetta by a career criminal". Enjolras answered without elaborating_. Tread carefully_, he thought.

"One of the seriously wounded was a young woman, who was then the focus of a second attack. Some of our callers today suggested that you and this young lady are romantically involved, and her past is somewhat…chequered? Is this true and how has her recovery progressed?"

"Anderson, the matter _is_ under investigation so as I said I have to be brief, but I can assure you the young lady in question is of the highest calibre. The very highest. She had humble beginnings but even as we speak she's beginning her own food harvest operation, delivering to homeless people right here in New York City. As to her well-being, she's making a remarkable recovery". He could feel the pride in his voice as he spoke of Eponine, and did not try to quell it.

Anderson was determined to get an answer from him. "And she is your…girlfriend?".

Enjolras tilted his head to the side. "I prefer to think of her as my partner. As for the rest, well that's between us".

"I can understand and appreciate a man that likes to keep his private life, private", said Anderson jovially. "From the calls we got today though, I can guarantee there are a lot of disappointed women - and some men - out there in New York tonight". Enjolras was thankful the camera was now on Anderson. He could feel a hot blush rising on his neck.

"Moving on", Anderson continued, "how did Les Amis come to be? I mean, we're not exactly talking boy band territory here are we?"

Both Valjean and Enjolras laughed. "Uh no. It was a bit more organic than that", answered Enjolras." The original members of the band, Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Marius, Feuilly, Jehan and I all met in college. We were all studying varying subjects; law, the humanities, history and languages. But our binding interest was the growing lack of equality in our society and the rampant abuse of our environment".

"And I understand you have two new members of the group?"

"We do; Joly and Bahorel…who by chance, also came to our aid at the rally", explained Enjolras.

"It sounds like a pretty tight unit", said Anderson.

"Without sounding preachy, we're not just a band, we're much more than that", Enjolras emphasised.

"Ok, we're going to go to another station break, but we're continuing our interview straight after with these two fascinating men. Stay tuned".

Anderson turned to them as they went to ad break. "You're doing great. Enjolras, I'm sorry but I have to ask those questions. But you handled them well, ok? Jean, you too. I have a few more questions and then we're done".

The studio manager was signalling them; "And we're back in five, four, three, two..", he finished off by pointing at Anderson.

The silver haired host was warming to Enjolras quickly. He could feel the spark in the young man seated next to him. He'd already had it in the back of his mind to help Valjean and now meeting his…protégé'? Co-worker? He was more determined than ever. He would use every ounce of pull he had to get the international concert in full swing. CNN had the resources and he had an address book full of celebrities - celebrities who believed as he did, in equality. But first he had a surprise up his sleeve.

"Valjean and I have known each other for a long time, so I feel I'm not overstepping our friendship too much when I say that he has a surprise and a request for you Enjolras".

"Oh?" Enjolras watched as a crew member passed an acoustic guitar over to Anderson, who then held it out for Enjolras to take. "I hear you have a song that's fast becoming a hallmark of the movement?"

Enjolras looked to Valjean who nodded at him before speaking. "It's a wonderful song, called "Do You Hear the People Sing?" Valjean was grinning at him and for a moment Enjolras was lost for words before hastily composing himself.

"Well, you've caught me off guard, but you have to love live television". Enjolras sat in his chair, strumming the guitar lightly before playing the first few chords and letting his voice join in.

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Lost in the valley of the night  
__It is the music of a people  
__Who are climbing to the light  
__For the wretched of the earth  
__There is a flame that never dies  
__Even the darkest night will end  
__And the sun will rise.__  
_

Enjolras got his feet as he was singing, climbing up to stand on his chair against the backdrop of a fully lit up New York below. His voice was echoing around the room in beautiful vibrato. The camera panned up, catching him in all his glory.

_Will you join in our crusade?  
__Who will be strong and stand with me?  
__Somewhere beyond Zuccotti Park  
__Is there a world you long to see?  
__Do you hear the people sing?  
__Say, do you hear the distant drums?  
__It is the future that we bring  
__When tomorrow comes!__  
_

Valjean was beside Enjolras now, singing the words. Anderson was off camera to their right, gobsmacked. He kept looking over to his cameramen, making sure that what he was seeing was being captured. The feeling in the studio was electric and he hoped it was coming through to his audience at home, or wherever they might be.

_Will you join in our crusade?  
__Who will be strong and stand with me?  
__Somewhere beyond the barricades  
__Is there a world you long to see?__  
_

_Do you hear the people sing?  
__Say, do you hear the distant drums?  
__It is the future that we bring  
__When tomorrow comes!  
__Tomorrow comes!  
__Tomorrow comes!__  
_

When Enjolras finished his last note, a roar of applause came from the studio crew and from Anderson himself.

"I think we all just witnessed something amazing here tonight and well…you heard it here first on _Anderson Cooper 360°,_ and right now I'm putting out a call. We are announcing right here _tonight_, a worldwide concert to be broadcast on CNN Live – a hookup with Occupy movements across the globe. I can announce right now to you, my audience and to you guys…" he said gesturing to Valjean and Enjolras, "…that we put the call out behind the scenes this week and the list of acts and supporters for the concert here in New York currently are… actors Mark Ruffalo, Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon, author Naomi Wolf, and the bands, Rage Against the Machine, Kanye West, Russell Simmons, Lou Reed, Yoko Ono, Third Eye Blind, and Katy Perry. Each and every one have pledged their support to the campaign".

"That's incredible", said Valjean.

"Before we leave you tonight, do you both have any last words for our viewers?" asked Anderson.

"I'd like to let our supporters know, and America know, that this concert, while important, is _not_ about celebrity, though we are so incredibly grateful for their support. It's about equality for all, not just for some. And about being careful with our planet, our mother".

"Enjolras?"

Enjolras contemplated his next words, before speaking slowly, again looking directly into the camera. "There is a great injustice being done to the whole by a very few who are reaping the benefits of these injustices. This movement is about the promise of something better. My message to the audience out there is that change has to start somewhere, why not _here_?"

"Why not indeed?" said Anderson to the camera. "You heard it first here on CNN. And I'm getting news that the CNN switchboard has just gone into meltdown. Thanks for joining us gentleman". Turning to the camera he continued. "We'll keep you up-to-date with details of the concert as we get them. We'll be back right after a short break with a news update".

"And… we're out", said the cameraman.

* * *

At The Musain, the crowd erupted. Eponine had tears in her eyes and was fiercely hugging Jehan. The rest of the group were standing on tables, cheering and hugging each other.

"Did you see him? Did you _hear_ him J?" she screamed at him over the crowd.

"That magnificent bastard! Damn he's the greatest speaker I've ever heard", said Bahorel.

Marius, Cosette, Combeferre , Joly and Feuilly crowded around. On the peripheral of the group were Bousset and Musichetta. Pushing through them all into Eponine's lap out of nowhere came Gavroche', followed by his foster parents.

"I saw it 'Ponine. He was pretty good – for a bourgeois boy", he said grinning as he hugged her again.

Then a curious sound and sight began in The Musain. Eponine and the members of Les Amis looked down at their phones. The damn things were practically jumping with people trying to call and text them.

Enjolras had been right.

The revolution had begun.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N**: A few of you are probably not going to like this chapter**. **In writing it, I thought about realistic love, everyday love – even as I feel Enjolras and Eponine have been through something epic, and they truly are in love - . Life is a rollercoaster, from one day to the next. How would a couple cope in the face of such intense goings on? Can long distance relationships _really_ work? Do you push back against the world, for the sake of a relationship just when you are about to get everything that you've ever hoped for _professionally_? Let's see…

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_The Promise" by Tracy Chapman – a beautiful, amazing, bittersweet lovesong._

* * *

**Chapter 42**

_If you wait for me  
__Then I'll come for you  
__Although I've travelled far  
__I always hold a place for you in my heart__  
_

_If you think of me  
__If you miss me once in awhile  
__Then I'll return to you  
__I'll return and fill that space in your heart_

_Remembering  
__Your touch  
__Your kiss  
__Your warm embrace  
__I'll find my way back to you  
__If you'll be waiting__  
_

_If you dream of me  
__Like I dream of you  
__In a place that's warm and dark  
__In a place where I can feel the beating of your heart__  
_

_Remembering  
__Your touch  
__Your kiss  
__Your warm embrace  
__I'll find my way back to you  
__If you'll be waiting__  
_

_I've longed for you  
__And I have desired  
__To see your face your smile  
__To be with you wherever you are__  
_

_Remembering  
__Your touch  
__Your kiss  
__Your warm embrace  
__I'll find my way back to you  
__Please say you'll be waiting__  
_

_Together again  
__It would feel so good to be  
__In your arms  
__Where all my journeys end  
__If you can make a promise  
__If it's one that you can keep  
__I vow to come for you_

_If you wait for me  
__And say you'll hold  
__A place for me  
__In your heart.__  
_

- '_The Promise' by Tracy Chapman_

* * *

For the next week and a half after the CNN interview, they rode the wave of media interest and the high of having their dreams realised. They drank it in like wine, soaking up the unfamiliar after-effects of being famous. They were suddenly recognised on the street. Someone asked Combeferre for his autograph, and instead of only writing his name he had to stop himself before he wrote an entire dissertation on the benefits of peaceful protest. They were even offered sponsorship by numerous high-level brands which they politely declined.

The concert was announced to take place two weeks from that day, and a host of behind the scenes work had begun in earnest. Thankfully CNN had put together broadcasts of this size before and had their people leap into the plan wholeheartedly, leaving Valjean and Les Amis to contend mostly with smaller print interviews and setup of their own operation. One thing Anderson Cooper had promised and fulfilled was his agreement to go over with the group the interest of any celebrities that wished to come on board. So far, Paris Hilton and at least one of the formidable Kardashian clan had been rejected by consensus.

Working with Valjean, Anderson and the team at CNN, Les Amis found themselves one of the top-billed attractions for the coming Occupy concert, which both bemused and startled them all. The sudden fame didn't come along with any extra money. They would make a flat fee when they worked with Valjean on matters relating to the administration and setup of the concerts, as did his other workers, but otherwise they still lived as frugally as they ever had.

Eponine received the money into the bank account that had been setup for _The Village Harvest_. She decided to start small, purchasing two vans, and employing drivers from Common Ground. She had the vans fitted with warming ovens for hot meals and insulation for colder products. She'd begun negotiations with Mike's bakery and the local grower's markets, plus several restaurants' in the area. There was a lot of interest in her charity. Many of the people she approached had wanted to help in the area previously but had no-one available to take the food. The food itself was in perfect condition, it was right on the verge of being out of date, so Eponine provided the restaurants and markets with plastic containers and they filled them to the size of a meal fit for one person. Eponine then made sure the vans were out and running immediately afterwards, getting sustenance to those on the street who needed it most. She made sure not only were they handed out food, but also information on where they could get a bed for the night, or apply for financial assistance.

Enjolras was frantically busy with Les Amis. The band was in solid rehearsal mode, trying to fit in a good four to five hours a day. The spirit amongst them was high, coupled with a feeling of stage nerves when any of them dared to think about performing to such a large crowd. It was fortunate they worked the rest of their days in with duties at Valjean's offices – the work there grounded them, and drove home the meaning of what they were doing into each of them. They were at the centre of the hurricane and all around them whirled ideals and promises of things to come. Enjolras had enforced a meeting at the end of each day and it was his steady hand and the guidance of Combeferre which steered their course through the melee of noise around them.

The fulfilment of years of dreaming for Enjolras and Eponine was not without its bittersweet side effects. Since the appearance on _Anderson Cooper 360_, they had barely seen each other. Pulled in opposing directions, they felt the thick bonds of their relationship being strained by the time apart. Any thought of intimacy was wrenched from them by the time they got home each day. Even their relative youthful energy was tested, and by night's end they fell into bed, wrapped around each other but too exhausted to express that love. They began drifting in and out of each other's presence, Enjolras inhaling the scent of her fragrance in the bathroom, remembering how it felt to smell it on her neck; his favourite hint of vanilla and gardenia. Eponine would pause at his cupboard, taking a moment to bring his shirts to her face, letting the perfume of his manliness overtake her, even as she heard him say his goodbyes, and shortly after the click of the front door as he left for another full day.

* * *

Valjean caught him as he entered the building." Enjolras, might I have a word with you?"

"Is everything alright, Jean?" Enjolras asked, following him up the stairs to where his private office was situated at the end of the hallway.

"Yes, it's fine. There's just been a new development that I'd like to discuss with you", he replied as he entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. "Have a seat, won't you?"

"Thanks". Enjolras sat, rubbing his hands together, awaiting whatever news had Valjean so tightly wound.

"How do you feel about taking Les Amis on the road, Enjolras?" Valjean asked.

"You mean like a tour?"

"Yes, of sorts. I think after the big concert for CNN, that we need to get out to every corner of the country, perhaps even some jaunts overseas, to continue pushing the message".

"That's very ambitious. Of course I'm interested but a tour, even for a small band like Les Amis is a very expensive undertaking, Jean".

"We'll underwrite it. We also have some sponsorship from like-minded companies and philanthropic institutions that are happy to provide backing for it". Valjean leaned over, trying to gauge the interest of his younger companion and found him unreadable as usual.

"How long will we be gone?" he asked simply after a few minutes.

"To do the length and breadth of the country, I'd estimate we're looking at almost 3 months".

Three months! _Three months away from Eponine_. Three months away from his beloved New York. But he wanted this. He did. He could feel it in his bones. He'd wanted this for longer than he could remember.

"Cosette will possibly be travelling with Marius, so you could….", said Valjean, suddenly understanding the slight apprehension in the younger man for what it was.

"Oh. Yes. Of course. But Eponine will have her business here. It's very important to her"._ As important as this is to me_. "I'll have to talk to the others as well Valjean. This is no mean feat you're talking of here. But I do believe that getting the work done on the ground is very important. We need to have all corners of the country behind us if any true change is to occur".

"Take your time, Enjolras. Talk to the rest of them, and let me know". He paused at the door, causing Enjolras to do the same. "I know where your concern lies. The love that binds us, holds us tight, no matter the distance". He saw the Enjolras had stopped, barely breathing as he listened to him. "What I'm saying, Enjolras…is I understand how heavy this decision will weigh on you".

Enjolras only nodded, blinking his eyes in thought. _He's an enigma_, thought Valjean. His eyes followed his young friend as he waved a goodbye and retreated down the hall to the exit of the building.

* * *

Enjolras' phone was buzzing. _Mother_. He'd rejected calls in the past weeks by his father, his mother and any members of their circle trying to get in touch with him. They hadn't come to see him when he was injured, and he was certain they only wanted to speak with him _now_ because they feared he was participating in something which might being shame on their family – as they perceived it.

He hit the Reject Call option and continued down the street to the apartment.

Turning the key hopefully in the lock, he was disappointed to find himself alone. Part of him continued to rue how he'd come to rely on Eponine's companionship. He found his conversations with her enlightening and lively, even when they were in disagreement – which was often. She was bright and engaging and even from the short time they'd managed to spend together each day, he could feel she was even more so now. Comparisons to Maggie the Cat from Tennessee Williams' _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof _came to him. _There's life in the girl. _There certainly was and he seemed to be missing out on it.

A deep and aching need for her came to him, from the time before the interview with CNN, when they'd needed each other so and been able to spend more time together. _Yes, I needed her_. _I need her still._ He would refute it if anyone else had uttered the words but he knew it in his soul to be true. _Where was she?_ If she appeared right at this instant he was afraid he might roll himself all over her, like an animal would, rubbing her in his scent and claim her as his; his and only his.

_Damned emotion!_ Taking a moment to catch his breath, he grabbed his trusty notepad and pen and sat down by the window to focus his thoughts away from Eponine and to his next in interview, one he was excited about – Enjolras had wanted _The Village Voice_ to be granted an exclusive interview with himself and Les Amis, and in two days it was finally going to happen.

* * *

The twilight stretched into evening, and finally around eight-thirty, he heard her turning her key in the front door. By the time she arrived home, he'd made his decision and he knew the others would follow him in his decision. He had to tell her. He was sitting in the dark, looking out onto the street below as the moon shone above, perfectly mirroring his reflective mood.

"Hey" she said. "How was your day?" She put her ever-present satchel down on the kitchen counter and made her way to him. He smiled at her and instantly she saw something there that caused her to pause.

"What? What is it, Enj?"

"Oh good news really. Valjean had some news today..", he began and then found the words would not come.

"And?"

"And after the CNN concert, he wants me and the rest of Les Amis to go on tour around the country" he said.

"But that's great news! Don't you want to go?", she said, not understanding his mood.

"Eponine, I'm going to be gone _a while_".

"Yeah, what, like a couple of weeks? I'm quite capable of managing on my own Enj". She had her brow furrowed now, trying to grasp the underlying meaning of his words.

"More like a couple of months", he said, and the meaning of it struck home with her at last.

"And all of you are going? Cosette too? And you won't be backtracking to New York _at all_?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't think it works like that. Eponine, I have to go".

"I know. I know you do", she said trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. "I would never hold you back when you're on the cusp. This may never come again". He looked at her when she said her last words, not sure if she was talking of _them_ or this cause.

She got up from the couch, wanting to be away from him for a moment. He hadn't meant to but his words had hurt her. _I can't go. I can't follow him when I'm on the verge of something I want so badly. He must know that. He does know that. _She knew this revolution was bigger than their little lives, their little lives which didn't count at all – and yet something in her heart cried out _"No"._

"Eponine", she heard him say. She turned to him, as he watched her from the lounge, which now seemed a thousand miles away.

"I've been alone before in this city Enjolras. I can do it again. We'll be fine. You'll come home from inspiring the country…and I'll be here. Where I've always been". She tried to smile at him but failed miserably. "And I have my work, which I love. And I have Gavroche'"

"Eponine, we're not breaking up. You know that, don't you? That's not what this is about. This is what the movement requires of me. When I'm done its you I'm coming home to".

"I know', she replied unconvincingly, "and we have the CNN concert in a few weeks which will be great. A last hurrah", she tried to be humorous but again failed. She was tired from the day, and overwhelmed by what he was saying to her, knowing only that she wanted his arms around her but unable to bridge the gap between them.

"I'm going to have a bath", she said."Why don't we talk about this tomorrow, when we're fresh. Everything is just so _big_ right now, you know?"

"I made you some dinner. Aren't you hungry? You must be hungry", he said, standing up and taking a step towards her.

"No", she replied, retreating backwards down the hall. "No thank you. I've no appetite. I think I'll just take my bath and go to bed. I'm really beat".

"Ok…Eponine? I love you".

She smiled tiredly at him. "I love you too Enj". She turned and padded down the hall, the silence in the house seemingly louder by the moment. This was their honeymoon period, when their relationship should have been about discovery and the delight of exploring each other. Instead they both suddenly felt as if the universe had conspired to rip them apart again.

When at last they both lay in their shared bed, a bed in which they'd made such sweet love, an ocean might as well have been between them. Though they mimicked the deep breath of sleep, neither was yet under the spell of the sandman. Eponine was doing what she always did when she felt like she was losing someone – she was subconsciously detaching and her soul ached at her actions. She didn't mean to, it was an act of protection developed in her early life and as such it was deeply imbedded in her psyche.

Enjolras lay by her side, the heaviness of his heart juxtaposed with the excitement of what lay ahead. He wouldn't allow himself a single thought that he might lose Eponine in the process. Not after what we've been through. _Not after I bared my heart to her. I can do both. I can have my revolution and I can have what my heart desires. I can._

* * *

And above, a solemn moon shone down on them through the parted curtains, echoing the thoughts of the living universe that two lovers might find the strength in all that was to come, and find a way to stay together.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N**: What is Eponine doing? A desperate attempt to save her own heart? Or is she throwing away her love to the wind? Not long now to the big concert. There's a countdown on for these two to work things about before the group go away on tour. Can they resolve their issues?

Note: I snuck in a little Marius/Cosette for the reader who ships these two as well. Enjoy.

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Heart's a Mess" by Gotye – a wonderful, atmospheric pop song but very melancholic as well._

"_You Can't Always Get What You Want" by The Rolling Stones_

* * *

**Chapter 42**

_Pick apart the pieces of your heart  
__Let me peer inside  
__Let me in where only your thoughts have been  
__Let me occupy your mind as you do mine__  
_

_You've lost (too much love)  
__to fear, doubt, and distrust (not enough)  
__You just threw away the key (to your heart)  
__You don't get burned ('cause nothing gets through)  
__It makes it easier (easier on you)  
__That much more difficult for me  
__To make you see__  
_

_Love ain't fair  
__So there you are, my love__  
_

_Your heart's a mess  
__You won't admit to it  
__It makes no sense  
__But I'm desperate to connect  
__And you can't live like this__  
_

_Your heart's a mess  
__You won't admit to it  
__It makes no sense  
__But I'm desperate to connect  
__And you, you can't live like this__  
_

_Your heart's a mess  
__You won't admit to it  
__It makes no sense  
__But I'm desperate to connect  
__And you can't live like this__  
_

_Love ain't safe  
__You won't get hurt if you stay chaste  
__So you can wait  
__But I don't want to waste my love__  
_

- "_Heart's a Mess" by Gotye_

* * *

Ten days went by as quickly as the blink of an eye as the preparation for the CNN concert kicked into gear. The group's days were filled with rehearsals, and working with Valjean's team, consolidating local and international support for the cause.

Marius had proved himself a good choice for helping with local marketing. With Cosette by his side they traversed the city, speaking with independent record stores, clubs and likeminded groups. Grassroot support was essential to keep the movement strong. And support for Les Amis meant flow-on support for the Occupy movement. The appearance by Valjean and Enjolras on the programme had given them a much-needed higher profile in the city, and they found people eager to get on board with them.

Marius was not alone in his endeavours. Cosette was accompanying him as he sought out marketing opportunities across the great city. She had a lightness, a goodness about her that invited people in. At first she was reticent, even shy, but with Marius by her side she began to blossom – the influence of her father clear as she voiced her own thoughts on equality and accountability. Those that were initially cold to the idea of the movement found themselves thawing out as the young woman talked to them.

* * *

Across the city, as one young woman blossomed and turned her face to the sun, another was building defensive walls and closing herself off from the light, even as she finally began to make her dreams a reality. Eponine was firmly establishing herself as a force to be reckoned with. Her sense of self was growing as she realised this was where she was meant to be, and this was what she was meant to be doing. _All my life, all that happened to me – there was a reason_. Already ten of the street people she had previously helped with her little sandwiches had been moved into assisted living by Eponine and her network of non-profits. _Any of them could be me. Any of them __**were**__ me._

There were other good things happening in her peripheral as well. Gavroche had told her that his foster parents were looking to make his situation with them permanent. She was surprised to hear how happy he sounded about the possibility. But she gave them credit – they seemed to realise he needed a certain amount of freedom, and their love for him and his wilder-than-normal spirit made Eponine feel secure about his future with them.

She looked down as a message came through on her phone. Enjolras. _"Lunch today? Washington Park? Our seat?"_ She looked at her phone for a moment, before grimacing and typing a quick note back_. "Can't – busy with work. See you at home?" _She kept walking down the street, but stopped again as a message came back. _"Ok"_.

She wasn't lying. _Not really_, she told herself. She _was_ busy with work. She was still pulling the odd shift at The Musain as Sam tried to fill her place. She moved aside as a group of students walked passed her. Looking back at their carefree, laughing figures, it brought the memory of the day all their dreams had come true, the day of her meeting at Valjean's office. _What's wrong with me?_ _Aren't we all getting what we want? Then what is wrong with me?_

She knew already what the answer was. Enjolras was leaving her. Three months. Maybe more. And she was deathly afraid of falling apart over it. _What am I supposed to do? Freeze-frame my life for three months and pretend it isn't killing me._ She hated that her love for him was making her do this. This thing she had to do. It was necessary for her survival after he left. She had people relying on her now. She couldn't curl up in a ball. She couldn't yell into the sky how unfair it was. Fate had conspired to take her love away from her, and so she was taking herself away from him. She knew, somewhere inside her, that was she was doing was wrong. He didn't realise what was happening though she'd caught him several times in quiet moments, looking at her face as if he was trying to decipher her moods.

She walked past a bakery not far from Valjean's office and the enticing smell of fresh bread made her stomach rumble, reminding her that it was almost lunchtime. She peeked in the window. The specials looked good: Homemade pumpkin soup and a fresh-baked roll. She ordered the soup and a skinny cappuccino, deciding on the spot to grab a seat by the window. People watching was always a favourite pastime. She watched workers on their lunchtime break, steamrolling past tourists, whose gait by contrast appeared almost lazy. New York was a city of hustle and bustle and if you slowed down, you simply got run over.

Reaching over to the bench beside her, she grabbed the copy of The Village Voice sitting atop the pile of newspapers and magazines provided for the café' patrons. _"Revolution is Coming!"_ screamed the tagline underneath of photo of Les Amis. Inside was the exclusive that Enjolras had given to them.

He'd revealed more than Eponine had thought he would, but given how much he wanted this to succeed, perhaps she'd underestimated him. She perused the interview;

_The Village Voice:_ A lot of our readers might be surprised to hear you come from a well-to-do family. In fact, your father is the legal representative for one of the firms you've actively protested again.

_Enjolras:_ (Laughing easily) I can assure you that this is not simply a case of rebellion against my own patriarch. It's unfortunate that my father and I are on opposing sides of this argument, but it is what it is.

_The Village Voice_: And you don't find it hypocritical at all that you're fighting for equality whilst having all this wealth to fall back on.

_Enjolras:_ One doesn't have to be poor to see the inequality happening in this country. As to my own financial situation, I am adrift from any money my family has. I make a small amount from appearances with Les Amis, and by working within Valjean's organisation, and I share my accommodation. I've become quite adept at being frugal, truth be told.

_The Village Voice_: "Let's talk about this revolution of yours. How far do you see it spreading?"

_Enjolras:_ Worldwide, we hope. I'd just like to clarify this isn't _my_ revolution. It belongs to everyone. It's simply time for people to stand up for what they believe in.

Eponine kept reading. He'd kept any talk of the two of them out of the press. His interview was eloquent and passionate as always. She buried her head in the article, reading more about the man she was distancing herself from a little more, day by day.

* * *

Enjolras was on his way home after yet another meeting with Valjean and the group. Combeferre and Bahorel were working very hard, trying to find smaller groups internationally like Les Amis to spotlight during the concert. They all felt that each country needed local identities, people and groups that represented them. Seeing celebrities endorse movements and causes was getting jaded. They needed to ram home the message with heartfelt performances by people the crowd could get invested with. Combeferre and Bahorel were connecting with independent radio stations in each country and so far had been very successful.

As he contemplated the work ahead, he decided it was time for a coffee break, thinking about Eponine as he made his way to a café'. He was very disappointed he'd been unable to catch her for lunch. They seemed to be finding it harder and harder to find quality time alone, and still, though they slept in the same bed, the brick wall of intimacy hadn't yet been breached again. He honestly didn't know what the reception would be if he made such a move towards her. Something was amiss, and he couldn't put his finger on it.

As he reached the door of the café, he chanced to look across the street. There, sitting in the window of another café was Eponine, leisurely leafing through a magazine. What had her text said? He pulled his phone from his pocket. "_Can't – busy with work. See you at home? " _He examined her table. From what he could see, her things were scattered on it; a plate, a coffee cup and a magazine. As he watched a waiter brought her over what he assumed was a second cappuccino. _She's avoiding me? She's lying to me?_ He tried to ignore the feeling of hurt that suddenly rushed through him. The sensation was alien, almost intolerable. Were his feelings being rejected?

He took his coffee order from the counter and was about to cross the street to her when his phone buzzed. Jehan. _"Rehearsal starts in 15 mins. Where are you?" _Damn. It would have to wait until later, when Eponine would invariably stumble in way past dinner time and too tired to talk to him. _Tonight it would have to be._ He took one more look at her, before making his way to The Musain.

* * *

The others were already there when he walked in which was unusual. It was a sign of the times and indicated to him just how busy he'd gotten, that he was not there at least twenty minutes before everyone else.

Joly was in a state. Excited by the upcoming concert, it has also given him a nervous tic because, all the members of the group had been told they could bring one person along with them on tour. Joly was split halfway between his mistress Musichetta, and his best friend Bossuet, of whom he was equally fond – and whom also happened to be Musichetta's other lover – and odd triangular relationship to outsiders, but one which worked for its participants. He thought of tossing a coin but believing it too frivolous a way to choose, he decided to think on it later.

Jehan was talking about costumes for the tour with Combeferre and Marius, both of whom were trying to dissuade him from the topic – no-one wanted to wear anything that Jehan put his mark on. Marius could actively picture them all in 80's t-shirts and cravats. Instead, steering the conversation gently, Marius advised him that maybe they'd just wear what they always had.

Combeferre, Feuilly and Bahorel were talking about security at the concert in hushed tones in the corner.

There was a general feeling of camaraderie about them that made Enjolras happy. Things were very good with the band, even as troubled as he was about his relationship with Eponine.

"Hey, Enjolras!" welcomed Combeferre. He motioned him over to the group, where he pulled up a chair.

"What are going to discuss today, Enj? I think we're pretty much done, save for rehearsal and the soundcheck in two days time".

"I think we're as close as we'll ever get to finished 'Ferre, I agree", Enjolras replied the surprise of all of them.

"I'm confused', joked Jehan. "Aren't we all in need of a sound ear-bashing with some revolutionary fervour?"

"Hilarious", shot back Enjolras. "I only use that when I feel like you guys are slacking off. That's not the case today. It hasn't been for a few weeks. How would everyone feel about taking the afternoon off? We're going to be gone awhile, why don't you spend some time with your family and other friends? Unless anyone has specific questions or worries, we can meet in the morning for another rehearsal, but then we're good until soundcheck as far as I'm concerned".

They looked at each other, a hint of confusion mixed with happiness about being let off early. But they stood anyway and began gathering their things together. Jehan was giving him a look, as was Combeferre and he knew before they even stood up, that they'd be over to talk with him in a few moments.

He made his way over to the stage area of the club, packing up some paperwork he'd left there the day before, along with his acoustic guitar. He turned to see them both standing there, waiting for him.

"What?"

"Something's wrong with you", said Jehan softly. Enjolras looked from his face to that of Combeferre, who was nodding in agreement.

"What is it, Enj?" he asked.

"Nothing is wrong. Why is it so odd I would give everyone the afternoon off to see their nearest and dearest".

"Because..because it's just something you wouldn't do, ok. Where's Eponine? I haven't seen her for quite some time".

"She's busy with Village Harvest, as I'm sure you're well aware", he replied shortly.

"Is she still not coming along on tour?" Jehan pressed.

"She _can't_. You know she can't. I know she can't. It's of no importance. Anyway, I don't want to discuss it – its private".

"Mate, you guys are so tight. Maybe, maybe one of _us_ can talk to her", offered Combeferre.

Enjolras stood upright at that. "_No_. Absolutely not. She made her decision. And don't you see? What she's doing is what she's wanted and needed her whole life – the same as what _we're_ doing. Would _you _ask her to give that up? Because _I_ wouldn't. I can't. Even if I wanted to". He bit his lip and looked away, trying to concentrate on putting his his papers into a manila folder.

"Well", said Jehan, "You know technology has come a long way. There's Skype and video calling, and maybe she can fly out for a couple of weekends?"

"I'm sure we'll figure out something. Look, I have to go. I suggest you both make the most of today, and go spend some quality time with…whoever".

Combeferre and Jehan both exchanged concerned looks as Enjolras headed out the door of The Musain. "Something's bothering him, 'Ferre".

"I know, but this is Enjolras, Jehan. If he doesn't want to tell us, nothing will get it out of him". He picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. I'm going to go see my parents. Do you want a lift uptown?"

"Yeah mate, thanks", replied Jehan. His brow was furrowed as he thought about The Chief. He needed to talk to Eponine.

* * *

Enjolras went straight to the apartment. He was desperate for a shower. He turned on the faucet as hard as he could get the jets to run and he let the hot, steamy water run over his hair and body as he tried to cleanse away the nagging thoughts in his mind. For the first time he understood why so many love songs had been written, and so many about _confusing _love, and love gone _wrong._ And he didn't like it. He didn't like the fact of this new knowledge one bit.

His detractors had always commented that he was idealistic, that his hopes blinded him. Was this how he was romantically as well? _Am I blind?_ He was not a roses and chocolates guy and he knew it, but he foolishly thought his relationship with Eponine had been transparent on both sides. Now, he was beginning to realise that might not be the case. And it _hurt_. It hurt like the jab of a bayonet to his heart.

He got out of the shower, quickly drying his unruly locks and wrapping the towel around his waist, as he padded his way down the hall.

He heard the key turn in the lock just as he reached for a milk carton in the fridge. He stood with his hand resting on the fridge, the carton in his hand as Eponine opened the door. For a moment they both stood still, silent. Eponine was taking him in. _God, he was beautiful. _His pale skin was still damp; she could see the finely etched muscles in his arms, chest and stomach. How long had it been since she'd touched him? She could feel her need for him growing, even as she tried to resist it.

She realised he was still staring at her, and finally words sputtered into life from her mouth. "Hi, what are you doing here?"

"I live here", he smiled. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought you had a busy day? Or did you just come home because you thought I wouldn't be here yet?"

"What? Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know. Forget it. I'm sorry. Did you manage to get lunch after your busy morning?", he asked.

"No", she said. "I had to eat on the run. You know how it is", she replied, not looking directly at him.

_Hmmm…lying right to my face_, he thought. _What the hell is going on?_

"Well since we're both home, why don't we order in and watch a movie?", she said as put her bag down on the table. _We won't have to talk if we watch a movie. _"I'm just going to have a shower, and get comfortable, ok?" She started walking towards the bedroom when she heard his footsteps quicken behind her.

Holding his towel so it wouldn't fall off, he almost yelled at her. "Stop. Stop it Eponine. Why are you lying to me? I saw you at lunch today".

"You saw me?"

"I saw you", he said plainly.

She bit her lip and looked at the floor. "I don't know what to say".

"How about the truth, Eponine? That's always worked for me", he shot back. "Why are you pulling away from me? Why are you lying to me? Why haven't we made love in over two weeks?"

She turned and started to walk down the hall again, only to feel his arm on hers. She spun around to him, defiant.

"Because you're leaving me! Ok?", she yelled. "Because I'm going to be left to pick up the pieces. Long distance relationship don't work Enjolras, don't you get it? I haven't said anything because this is your dream. And I can't come because I'm getting my dream". She looked at his intense blue eyes, seeing the question there. "And before you ask me, yes, I still love you, I love you more than you could ever possibly imagine, but you leaving is going to hurt. Don't you _understand_? The pain has already started and you aren't even gone yet! And if I don't start protecting myself, I'm going to fall apart. And I_ can't_. I _won't_. I've come too far".

Before she realised it, Enjolras had pulled her into his arms, his face in her hair, his arms wrapped securely around her. She struggled at first, but then gave into him, relishing the closeness, even as she tried not to.

"Shit", he whispered softly into her hair. "What are we going to do?"


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N**: In writing about the concert, I was trying to capture the spirit of Live Aid in 1985 and the concert for Hurricane Sandy victims, but on a smaller scale, obviously. Again I used the energy and fervour of Bono and U2 Live at Red Rocks. This is the most epic chapter I've had to write, even above the funerals, and the CNN interview. At the core, I was trying to capture a small but intense and beautiful love affair at the centre of it. That being said, there was only _**one **_song that came to mind for it, _As Long As You're Mine_ from _Wicked. _In the background of even the music the band were playing, I could hear this, as the theme for Enjolras and Eponine.

**Note**: One of the things Enjolras says in his speech is paraphrasing a quote by Bono.

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_As Long As You're Mine",_ sung by Aaron Tveit and Nicole Parker from _Wicked_

* * *

_Kiss me too fiercely  
__Hold me too tight  
__I need help believing  
__You're with me tonight  
__My wildest dreamings  
__Could not foresee  
__Lying beside you  
__With you wanting me__  
_

_And just for this moment  
__As long as you're mine  
__I've lost all resistance  
__And crossed some borderline  
__And if it turns out  
__It's over too fast  
__I'll make every last moment last  
__As long as you're mine__  
_

_Every moment  
__As long as you're mine  
__I'll wake up my body  
__And make up for lost time  
__Say there's no future  
__For us as a pair  
__And though I may know  
__I don't care__  
_

_Just for this moment  
__As long as you're mine  
__Come be how you want to  
__And see how bright we shine  
__Borrow the moonlight  
__Until it is through  
__And know I'll be here holding you  
__As long as you're mine__  
_

- "_As Long As You're Mine" from the musical, 'Wicked'_

* * *

**Central Park  
Day of the worldwide concert hookup: 10am soundcheck**

Central Park was an iconic place for all of them. As cash-strapped students they'd gone to many free Summerstage events to see musical and theatre events there; The New York Philharmonic Orchestra The Black Keys, John Butler Trio, and Jack White to name only a few. And now here they were, standing on the empty stage, doing soundcheck with a myriad of familiar and famous faces. It was so odd to see most of them in casual gear, just like them, well except for Kanye West who was dressed head to toe in the latest fashion. Jehan was actively checking him out, trying to figure out how he made his look so…him.

Warm up music was playing through the open-air venue and the bass was reverberating throughout the backstage area as well. Everyone was aflutter; there was an atmosphere of expectation. Enjolras and Marius were stopped by venue management for an official photo, their All Access passes draped around their necks. It was a great photo – they both wore huge, genuine smiles. Later, after the concert, that photo would generate over a million Twitter retweets.

As they passed by the stage, Combeferre and Joly caught sight of Valjean chatting with actor Mark Ruffalo. It was all too heady for both of them. Thankfully Combeferre, the more steady-minded of the two, ushered them past quickly before Joly dissolved into a puddle of itches and nervous ticks again.

Bahorel was by the security area. He'd been hooked up with an earpiece and was wired into the network of security at the venue. He wearing a black t-shirt with red-writing; SECURITY on the front in bold, and LES AMIS on the back.

Anderson Cooper was being set up in a booth from where he would both announce acts and talk to them as they came off the stage. Back at CNN headquarters on Columbus Circle, a large room there was quickly being filled with telemarketers who would take donation calls from the audience , both in the park and at home who would be encouraged to donate money, as little or as much as they wanted. Any money raised would go to homeless, veteran and underprivileged charity and education units in each city.

* * *

By the time it was their turn for the band to do a soundcheck, most of the other bands had already left. Even though this was a charity benefit, ego's and PR people still found a way to haggle for pecking order. And Les Amis, as the least known band, got moved to the end of the line. Not that any of them really cared. They were all on stage, staring out to the vast, empty space of the Central Park Green.

"God, I hope people show up!" said Feuilly. In his wildest imagination he could not foresee New York having that many people to fill the ground. _What if no-one actually cared about their cause?_

"Well, people may not be showing up to see _us_, but they'll come to see Kanye, and Rage Against the Machine and Katy Perry. And they'll come because it's a good cause, they need somewhere to express their support", said Combeferre.

"'Ferre is right", agreed Enjolras, walking up behind him, holding a microphone. "And don't forget, we have the CNN audience which is massive. So think of it this way, even if not one person shows up here, which would be embarrassing, but even so, this concert will still go out to millions of people. And, look at it this way – not many people have seen us perform, so there's no huge expectation on us". He looked around before continuing. "So, when we get on that stage and kick ass, we'll blow them all away. On that note – how are everyone's nerves holding up?".

He looked around to the group that had circled around him. They looked nervous but excited.  
"What if I screw up on stage, in front of millions of people?" asked Joly. Jehan patted him on the shoulder. "Mate you haven't mucked up once, not _once_ in rehearsal. You'll be fine. If you get nervous, picture Anderson Cooper naked".

"Or better yet, Katy Perry", chimed in Bahorel. They all chuckled at that, even Enjolras allowed himself a smirk.

"Ok, let's do a quick sound check before we get out of here for a couple of hours. Combeferre has generously offered his apartment as a place for us all to hang out, so I suggest we do that and rest before we all come back here together".

They gathered on stage and did a rock version of the peace anthem "Blowin' in the Wind". Enjolras didn't use the full strength of his voice, saving it for the actual show, but the band sounded tight as they all imagined how it would be to play the venue at its capacity later. After running through a few more songs and allowing the sound technicians to make the appropriate adjustments, they called time on the sound check.

As they made their way out of the park to the 59th Street train station, Enjolras sighed as he saw Jehan and Combeferre hurry to walk on either side of him. It could only mean one thing.

"Well?" asked Jehan in exasperation.

"Well _what_?" shot back Enjolras.

"Enj, really. Have you sorted it out with 'Ponine?" said Combeferre. "Is she coming?"

"Are my personal matters really so important that you two can think only of them? Now? We play in a few hours to I can't even estimate exactly how many people". He saw the pressing look on their faces. "Yes, she's coming. Of course she's coming. She has some things to for Village Harvest and then she'll make her way here. Satisfied?'

"Well, it's just you've changed since you met her, and umm…that hasn't been a bad thing. We all just like you guys together".

"I've changed?" asked Enjolras, suddenly panicked. Maybe he'd lost his edge, maybe his fervour was diminished.

"Oh don't worry, Enj. You're still the same logical, fervent, beautiful pain in the ass you've always been – just a bit warmer", laughed Combeferre. "And Eponine is like our sister".

Enjolras exhaled. "No. No is the answer. It's an impossible situation. We're going to have to just take it as it comes."

"Jesus mate, that's a bummer". Jehan was genuinely worried about the two of them.

"Look, we're not breaking up and…and I don't want to talk about it any further alright", said Enjolras exasperated. _Since when do they think I'm ok talking about relationships? I'm not Oprah!_

"Well, it's not just that. There's the tour and – "

"Combeferre, the tour and the cause come before anything. They have to. That's the end of the discussion. Now, let's enjoy _today_. This is a big moment for us. Let's live in the moment".

"Ok Chief", replied Combeferre.

Behind him as he boarded the train, Jehan and Combeferre exchanged worried glances.

* * *

**The Concert**

The stage was set on the huge piece of land that was Central Park Green, with lights and all the vital equipment needed for the concert. Giant speakers were placed in the four corners to make the music highly audible and the level of sound was astronomical. If Joly had been truly worried if the Park would fill, those fears were truly put aside now. Estimates put the crowd at close to three-hundred thousand.

The concert had gone even better than its organisers could have possible have hoped for. Kanye West, introduced by Susan Sarandon who had given her own impassioned speech just moments before, had put on brilliant four-song set that got the crowd dancing.

In between sets, the screen would flicker back to Anderson Cooper, who was interviewing the personalities and relaying the tally update of donations. So far, they were closing in quickly on almost a million dollars in donations that would go to worthwhile organisations across New York and beyond.

Rage Against the Machine were on stage, just finishing their searing set, and the vibration that each sound produced, felt like currents passing through everyone's body, almost like a festival of sensory overloads. Above the stage there was a large sign erected with a phone number indicated. Enjolras was waiting in the wings with Les Amis and all the other musicians, focused but occasionally looking around for any sign of Eponine and checking his phone as he paced.

The stage was a constant flurry of excitement. As Rage Against the Machine finished to a huge roar from the crowd, Mark Ruffalo took the stage alone and presented an impassioned speech for the Occupy Movement. It was obvious he wasn't just a hanger-on to the cause; it really meant something to him. As he finished, his voice cracked noticeably and it seemed he was glad to hand the microphone over to Valjean.

Enjolras was at the side of the stage with the band. The time was near. So close, it was stirring the blood in their veins. He prayed to all the Gods in the universe that they'd pull off a good set_. Not for us_, he thought. _Not for us. For the revolution._

Valjean was almost through his introduction of the band; "You may not be that familiar with them now, but you will be moved by their passion. Ladies and Gentleman, Les Amis!"

Enjolras ran out onto the stage followed by the rest of the band to a smaller roar than the other bands had received. Enjolras paid it no mind as he greeted Valjean with a handshake. He looked out to the gigantic crowd and for a minute he was almost awe struck.

Steeling himself, he took the microphone stand in his hand as the others got ready. Enjolras began speaking as the crowd hushed. "I know idealism is not playing on the radio right now, you don't see it on TV, irony is on heavy rotation, the knowingness, the smirk, the tired joke". As he spoke he walked over to the other side of the stage. "I've tried them all out but I'll tell you this, outside this park — and even inside it — idealism is under siege beset by materialism, narcissism and all the other isms of indifference".

"It's time for that indifference to end. _Right here_ is where we start", he said passionately, and by now the crowd was with him and roaring. "But whether it's _this_ or something else, I hope you'll pick a fight and get in it. Get your boots dirty; get rough, steel your courage, one last primal scream and go".

As he reached his last words, he signalled to the band behind him.

"The world is more malleable than you think and it's waiting for you to hammer it into shape", he finished.

He nodded his head as Marius counted in the beat to "Talkin' Bout a Revolution", their rockier cover of the Tracy Chapman classic. It was good warm-up for the band and the crowd, who started singing along with it immediately. The band was brilliant, playing as if it was a typical Saturday night at The Musain. Enjolras let his voice ring out clear and true, and the band never missed a beat. When the song finished they got a rapturous applause from the crowd.

But Les Amis didn't let them catching their breath, launching straight into The Who's "We Won't Get Fooled Again".

This time, Enjolras let the more relaxed tone of the previous song fall by the wayside as he heard Joly hit the searing chords on his guitar. He let out a raucous howl that immediately had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand.

_We'll be fighting in the streets  
With our children at our feet  
And the morals that they worship will be gone  
And the men who spurred us on  
Sit in judgement of all wrong  
They decide and the shotgun sings the song_

Enjolras was strutting on the stage, keeping time with the beat. He shook his dirty blonde hair, the ferociousness of his on-stage persona captured on the big screens around the park.

_I'll tip my hat to the new constitution  
Take a bow for the new revolution  
Smile and grin at the change all around  
Pick up my guitar and play  
Just like yesterday  
Then I'll get on my knees and pray  
We don't get fooled again_

The band went into a rocking instrumental, and by the time the song was done, they were all covered in a film of sweat, and the appreciative roar from the crowd was definitively louder.

Enjolras managed a quick glance into the wings of the stage. No Eponine. Shaking it off, he re-focused on the next song. This one was their own.

* * *

**Eponine**

Eponine had trouble getting a cab; more than trouble. It was chaos in NYC, due in no small part to the large amount of people making their way to the same concert as her. She barely made it to Central Park on time, but make it she did, just in time to see Les Amis take the stage. From the back of the park Eponine watched as the band inspires the thousands of people present.

Running as fast as she could, Eponine flashed her Access All Areas pass at each security checkpoint and finally found herself in the wings with Valjean and a myriad of celebrities, just as Les Amis finished singing "Can You Hear the People Sing", and the crowd are almost out of control. She was out of breath, her muscles aching from the sprint. She didn't care; she has eyes only for one person. She spots him immediately on the stage. He's wearing the red jacket she initially hated but has now come to love as a symbol of the passion and fire, and love running through his revolutionary veins. No other colour could be more suited to him. He's climbed the bank of speakers, and standing atop them, he's waving his hand over his head in time with the music, and over three-hundred thousand people in the crowd are doing the same thing.

_How could I ever dream of stopping him from doing this? This is why I love him. This is who he is. _

She can hear the roar of the crowd as he leads them in a call-back, and the words appear on the screens around the park. It's _loud_. No, loud doesn't begin to describe it. It's an awe-inspiring cacophony of human voices, raised in song.

**Enjolras**: _The colours of the world are changing day by day. Red!_

**Crowd & Les Amis**:_ The blood of angry men_

**Enjolras:** _Black!_

**Crowd & Les Amis:**_ The Dark of Ages Past_

**Enjolras:**_ Red!_

**Crowd & Les Amis:**_ A world about to Dawn_

**Enjolras:**_ Black!_

**Crowd & Les Amis:**_ The Night that ends at last_

And with that, the set is over. Enjolras and the band feel as if for this moment, they all bulletproof and indestructible. The high of achievement and inspiration floods all of them and they grasp hands, taking a bow as the crowd thunders.

* * *

**Aftermath**

He sees her as he stands up from the bow. _She was here._ _She'd seen them_. Eponine is in the wings, crying and smiling and laughing all at once. In the blink of an eye, Enjolras was gone from the stage, forgetting about the others. In front of the rest of the band who are stranded for a moment, and the onlookers backstage who are doing splendid imitations of goldfish - mouths agape - he ran over to her, grabbing her and kissing her before running back on stage with the rest of them to take another bow.

Enjolras leaned over to the man next to him and said, "Jehan, I have to-"

"Go, I know. We'll see you at the airport at seven am". He patted Enjolras reassuringly on the back as The Chief ran to Eponine.

* * *

**The Apartment**

They barely made it in the door, before Eponine felt Enjolras pushing her against the door, running his hands all over her body, grasping her face in his hands and kissing her with as much love and passion as he can find. _Make her know. She has to know. _

Pushing her backwards into the living room, Enjolras started pulling her shirt over her head, her dark locks coming undone from their ponytail and falling about her shoulders with as much wild abandon as she herself felt. When her arms were raised and her hands were still caught up in her shirt, Enjolras let them hang there for a moment, running his hands freely over her ribs, tracing her jaw and neck with his hungry lips. He pressed his face to hers for a moment and Eponine could swear she felt a tear, before her shirt brushed past her as he finally pulled it over her head.

He lifted her skirts as she stood with her back to the wall. "Enjolras", she said huskily, as he buried his face in her neck, planting soft kisses there. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and softly, gently it began to travel down the curve of her back.

The silken heat of her body drove him to the brink. He managed to stave off his own satisfaction only by focusing every ounce of his thoughts on Eponine. _Her_ needs. _Her_ wants. Finding just the right touch that would please her and make her forget her own name.

He pulled down her bra, cupping her breasts and sighing in desire. He licked them, circling her nipples hungrily. He touched her belly, the softness of his fingertips sending tingles along her skin that spread all over her body.

Slowing himself down now, he moved her backwards down the hall towards the bedroom, continuing to caress her and covering her skin with his hot kisses.

Stopping in the hallway, he ran his hands down to her hipbones, pulling her underwear down as he went, he was hungry for her, and he lowered his face before using his thumbs to part her gently and lapping at her delicate centre, letting her perfumed wetness envelope him as he pleasured her. A tentative lick between kisses and he found the taste of Eponine to be as tantalising as always. He groaned at the hot familiarity of her sex as he felt her hands fisting into his hair. He looked up for a moment, catching her molten eyes before using his tongue to circle her most sensitive part, listening to the beautiful sigh of arousal that came from her. "Oh…yes". He didn't stop until he felt her legs tighten around him, and the single note of orgasmic release that came shortly afterwards.

With every ounce of energy, Enjolras made himself slow down. He didn't want to hurry, he wanted to savour this moment, remember every last breath and touch so he could lock it away later for safekeeping with the memories he held the dearest.

He took the backs of her thighs in his hands, adjusting her legs around his waist, feeling her skirt gather there. As he did, she threw back her neck and with a long, relieving shudder she gave herself over to him. He kissed her mouth ravenously, devouring her neck and earlobes even as he carried her finally into the room and laid her on the bed.

Stretched out before him, Eponine was as beautiful to him as she would ever be, her eyes full of love. Love with no shyness, and he felt the warmth of a man enveloped in the unconditional love of everything he is to her, body and soul, with all his human faults that have no place in the façade of a marble man.

She pushed him away suddenly, softly and got up from the bed. The golden yellow light from the bedside illuminated her, lighting her hair, and giving a glow to skin. He sat on the bed, pushing himself up until his back touched the wooden bedhead. He wanted her. Now. But he was intrigued nonetheless.

Eponine wanted to do something, something that meant she was giving herself to him. Something he would remember. Maybe this was their last time together. She didn't know. She had already lost her shirt to his passion, but standing only in her bra and skirt, she took a deep breath. The first time they'd made love, she was shy, unknowing, but now as she stood in front of him she felt confident. Confident enough to slowly perform a languid striptease. She reached behind her, undoing the zip with excruciating pace, never taking her eyes of Enjolras, who was hypnotised as the material dropped to the floor, leaving her in her underwear.

She counted a beat and let him take her in before reaching behind her and undoing the clasp of her bra with one hand, letting it fall off her shoulders. She laid a hand lazily on her breast, drawing circles on her skin provocatively. "I remember the first time we made love. Your touch burned me".

"Eponine", he growled from the bed.

"Burn me again Enjolras. Let me feel your fire again", she said slowly removing her underwear, kicking it to the side and standing in front of him, naked. The sight of her, and the challenge in her eyes was almost enough to finish him right then.

"Come _here_", he said reaching out his hand, and pulling her onto the bed, where he rolled her until she was underneath him. He ground against her, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking relentlessly, even as he let his hardness press between her legs. She moaned from the desire for him, pulling at his underwear, almost ripping them, so great was her need for him to be as naked as she.

He pulled them down his legs, and finally they were both in their natural state. Again, he took a deep breath and tried to slow himself down. He wanted to fuck her slowly, make every excruciating moment of pleasure last for them.

She couldn't take it anymore. She reached down and placed a hand around him, guiding him to her. "No", he said and pulled her hand away. "Wait". Again another breath and finally he slid inside her, pulling her hips and bringing the full length of him into her, inch by inch.

She arched her back, and he pushed into her again, then found his rhythm, putting himself as far in, and as far out as he could in each stroke. He reached up to put one hand to her face, gently touching it even as he thrust into her again. Their eyes were locked now as he continued to fuck her slowly. She wanted to scream "Faster!" but she was too caught up in the frisson between them, and her tingling nerves to speak. A low, guttural growl came from Enjolras as he pulled her up from the bed, so she was astride him. He grabbed her thighs as he impaled her again, and she used her feet as traction as she took over the rhythm, using her hips to torture him.

Their lips smashed together, as she picked up the pace and the sweat from both their bodies had started to bead on their skin. "I want to make you come", Eponine said, lifting her hips again and rotating them, as she plunged herself deeper on him again. "_Oh_ _fuck…_Eponine", he managed to whisper in her ear, and he took the lobe in his mouth, sucking hard.

They let themselves get swept away in the other, his hand on the small of her back as she made love to him, and her hands around the back of his neck, the pace increasing until they both shook with their long-awaited release.

Enjolras released her from his grip, kissing her shoulders as she moved backwards, tasting the saltiness of her sweat.

Laying them both back down on the bed, he closed his eyes and let the afterglow ease them both into sleep .

Several hours later, Eponine was woken by a hand tracing circles on her hip, moving upwards to her shoulder before coming to rest on her chin. She opened her eyes to find Enjolras staring intently at her. He leaned over to her and placed a kiss on her lips, smiling at the sleepiness of her warm, brown eyes.

"'Ponine, run away with me", he whispered in jagged tones, so quietly she could barely hear him.

"What?"

"Run away with me. Let's go. Let's just get on a plane together and leave. We can go anywhere, you and I".

She looked at his face, so earnest, and even though she knew he was lying so beautifully to himself as well as to her, the thought of him doing that for her almost broke her heart.

She shook her head, her hair tumbling about her face. "You're not a runner, Enjolras. You're a fighter. You wouldn't be the person I love if you dropped it all for us. But I adore you for offering it, even though I know you can't mean it".

He moved a stray tendril that had fallen into her face. "You know, just now… I realise how much you mean to me. Is it always so bittersweet? Love? Is this the penance I have to pay for closing myself off to it all these years?" He feigned a laugh, but it came out bitter. "Is this my price for being a Marble man?"

"Enj? Look at me". He was looking at the sheets, but looked up at her request. "This whole world is ours. Look what you did tonight. If it's meant to be, we'll find a way through. I like to think the two of us together – we worked because we let each other just be…ourselves… but we were such a _great _version of ourselves".

"Come over here", he said. She moved into his arms and for the next short hours until dawn they slept that way, Eponine's head resting on his chest, and Enjolras taking comfort in her small but reassuring form.

* * *

The taxi arrived bang on time at six am, and Eponine walked out to the sidewalk with him. Dawn's golden glow has just begun to pierce the darkness, the sunlight trying hard to peek around the dark and greyed corners of the city buildings. In the chill of the day, they stood together for one last moment as the cab driver loaded Enjolras few bags into the trunk.

He pulled her close to him, breathing in the perfume of her hair, before kissing her with every fibre of his being.

"Goodbye Eponine".

She gave him a hopeful smile. "Goodbye Enjolras".


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N**: So I had a little fun this chapter. The band are on the road, in an eco-friendly tour bus no less. A slightly more revolutionary and eco-friendly version of the bus scene in _Almost Famous_. And Enjonine starts figuring out life alone in New York.

I had a few laughs writing it , particularly the first part. Anyone familiar with Durian fruit knows what I'm talking about, having experienced it in Singapore. (Though durian crepes are quite yummy). This is a short chapter but fear not! Another chapter will be posted this weekend, and from there we start to get serious.

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome.

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

Billy Joel:_ "Only the Good Die Young"_

* * *

_Come out Virginia, don't let me wait  
__You Catholic girls start much too late  
__But sooner or later it comes down to fate  
__I might as well be the one__  
_

_They showed you a statue and told you to pray  
__They built you a temple and locked you away  
__But they never told you the price that you pay  
__For things that you might have done...  
__Only the good die young__  
_

_You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd  
__We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud  
__We might be laughing a bit too loud  
__But that never hurt no one__  
_

_Come on Virginia show me a sign  
__Send up a signal I'll throw you the line  
__The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind  
__Never lets in the sun  
__Darling, only the good die young__  
_

_You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation  
__You got a brand new soul  
__And a cross of gold  
__But Virginia they didn't give you quite enough information  
__You didn't count on me  
__When you were counting on your rosary__  
_

_They say there's a heaven for those who will wait  
__Some say its better but I say it ain't  
__I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints  
__Sinners are much more fun...  
__You know that only the good die young__  
_

_You say your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation  
__She never cared for me  
__But did she ever say a prayer for me?__  
_

* * *

_**Enjolras and the Perils of Travelling with Les Amis**_

The bus slowed down as it rolled to a stop at an intersection near Ruston on the I-20 highway. The bus and its occupants were making their way from Baton Rouge to Shreveport on the tour's second stop in Louisiana. They'd flown down South two days ago two days earlier, having one night's rest before beginning. Baton Rouge wasn't a huge start. They'd appeared on a local morning talk show; Enjolras had been interviewed with Combeferre, followed by a short performance by the band.

Valjean had provided the tour bus; a fuel efficient, eco-friendly vehicle that came complete with solar panels on the roof. It has been waiting for them at the airport as They wouldn't need too many hotels, the inside of the bus was comfortable and spacious enough to accommodate them all. The only thing they had to worry about was finding a place to shower each night but Valjean, again, had come to the rescue, finding a chain of hotels that would provide the group with meals and bathroom facilities as the needed along the way.

If the smells and dirty jokes coming from the group of men travelling with him were any indication, Enjolras was convinced this would feel like the longest tour in history. His nose was already twitching. There was a faint air of 'delicatessen' wafting over to him from the back of the bus. He noticed Bahorel and Combeferre had turned their heads as well, sniffing the air and trying to figure out where it was coming from.

"Feuilly…whatever it is – throw it out", said Enjolras.

"What are you talking about?" Feuilly replied defensively. He quickly shuffled the contents of his bag before placing it on the ground.

"I smell sausage. Are you stashing?" replied The Chief.

"What? I? –"

"Give it up Feuilly", interrupted Jehan, climbing over the seat to sit next to him. "You're the only one that eats that stinking Polish kranksy".

"Christ, why can't we be like a real rock band", asked Bahorel." Most tour buses smell like weed and ours smells like bloody Polish kranksy!"

That got them all laughing.

Before Feuilly could react, Jehan reached into his backpack and pulled out the offending item. "Lord, will you look at it? Smell that!"

"Give it back", demanded Feuilly.

"Nope. This is a democracy. Let's vote on it. All in favour of the kranksy say Ay". Jehan looked around. Only Feuilly's lone 'Ay' hung in the air.

"All against, raise your hand". Again Jehan looked around. Even Cosette, sitting in the back with Marius had her hand in the air, as did Musichetta and Boussuet on the opposite seats. Joly too, had his hand held high.

"Fine. It's a conspiracy. Anyway, it's nowhere near as a bad as the Durian fruit I introduced you to last year". Feuilly sat back down in his seat with a thump.

Enjolras smirked at him from the front of the bus. "Really, Feuilly, _that's_ your argument? We must discuss the finer points of debating again, you and I. One cannot defend oneself while at the same time _disparaging_ oneself. See where I'm headed with this?"

"Anyone want to have a sing-a-long?" asked Combeferre. At this the others sat up. "Who's calling it?" he asked.

"Me. It's my turn", said Joly. "Billy Joel – Only the Good Die Young. Oh, is that inappropriate?'

"I think it was one of Grantaire's favourite songs, actually", said Marius wryly. He started padding out a beat with pens and a book as the others started chiming in with the melody. Combeferre had pulled out his acoustic guitar and he and Enjolras had taken up the lead vocals. Pretty soon they were all singing along, letting the jaunty rhythm take them away. Musichetta and Boussuet were up and dancing in the aisle and even Cosette was clapping her hands and singing along.

When it was over, they drifted back to their seats, some of them still humming a few of the words.

Enjolras had retreated back into his notebook as he was prone to do. He had the beginnings of a new song in his head that he couldn't get out. He listened to the words in his head, before scratching them out on the paper before him:

_One song  
__He had the world at his feet  
__Glory  
__In the eyes of a young girl  
__A young girl  
__Find glory beyond the cheap coloured lights__  
_

"Enjolras?" A pair of feet in his vision as he looked down to his papers alerted him he had company. "Enjolras? I've been trying to catch your attention for five minutes". Marius stood in front of him looking perplexed.

Frustrated at the interruption, Enjolras almost growled at him. He closed his notebook and looked up. "What is it Marius?"

"Well, do you think it would be ok if Cosette and I ate dinner alone tonight? I'd like to take her out for dinner, you see and – "

"Marius, its fine. I'd like the band to try and stick together as much as possible on the tour but I'm certain a few nights out with Cosette won't break us, ok?".

"Everything alright Enj?", Marius asked. He'd expected more of an argument from Enjolras then he received.

"Oh, yes. I'm fine thanks. Just stuck on a song. It's an earwig that doesn't want to budge. I'm good". Marius heard the dismissal in the tone and happily retreated to the seat he was sharing with Cosette.

Enjolras' thoughts turned to New York City. He wondered what Eponine was up to…

* * *

_**Eponine and the Sidewalks of New York**_

Meanwhile, just over two-thousand kilometres away in New York, Eponine was thoroughly ensconced in her new venture.

Standing outside Mike's Bakery, she had a look of satisfaction on her face as the bread rolls were rounded up into trays and loaded onto her trucks. Jumping in the back of the truck, she quickly starting wrapping single rolls in clear wrap and adding each of them to an already packed dinner meal on the other side.

When she was done, she turned to find Mike himself standing there waiting for her. She smiled at him. He was one of the most giving of her donors, even as the need for more food had begun coming in, he always found a way to add to her supplies. She guessed he was around ten years older than her, his messy brown, coiffed hair and green eyes combining to make a winning combination, along with his athletic build. He looked more like an advertisement for J-Crew than a baker.

"Hi Eponine", he said, reaching out a hand to balance her as she exited the van.

"Hey Mike, what's up?"

"Nothing. Well it's not nothing. I have a proposition for you", he began, causing Eponine to raise her eyebrow questioningly.

If Mike saw it, he wasn't giving anything away. "Sometimes we have too much dough, so much that we can't even store it here on the premises. Anyway, I got to thinking…could Village Harvest use it?"

"I don't know what we'd do with it..unless…do you mean we could make our _own_ bread rolls?"

He shrugged. "You can do whatever you want with it. Do you know how to bake bread, and for how long? I could show you. You just need a fridge to store the dough. You can wrap it in plastic and when you're ready to use, just put it in a bowl with a warm cloth over it and let it adjust to room temperature."

Eponine put a hand to her mouth as she gave it some thought. "Hmmm…how much would there be? I can fit it quite a lot in my fridge at home".

"Maybe a few kilos a day. You don't have to take it all, just as much as you need." He looked at her face, deep in thought. _She's an attractive girl._ It was her eyes that caught his attention. Bright, street-smart. He was a little afraid of her – he'd heard her sass a guy on the street that barged into her as she walked into the bakery a few weeks ago. She wasn't mean but her comeback was biting.

"I'll say yes, but I'm going to need a few days. You're going to have to give me a quick lesson in baking beforehand. How's Thursday afternoon for you?'

"Uh, sure. I usually work from four am. to two pm, so if we say from three pm to four?"

"That's great Mike. I'll meet you here at two, ok?". She jumped back in the truck. If he was hoping for more conversation he was not going to get it now. She was preoccupied. He muttered a quick "goodbye" before heading back into the bakery.

Eponine finished moving around the meals in the back, and climbed out of the van, pulling the sliding door closed.

When she turned, her heart almost jumped into her mouth. Jean Valjean had appeared out of nowhere and was standing in front of her observing.

"It's so pleasing to watch a motivated young person do good deeds, Eponine. How are you?"

"I-uh, I'm good", she muddled. "I'm sorry", she said, shaking it off. "I just thought you'd be on the tour with the Les Amis".

He laughed. "I'll be catching up and checking in with the group at various points around the country, but I doubt they want to share the experience with an old man who needs a solid eight hours sleep at night and a good dose of fibre in the morning".

"I highly doubt any of them would think you an intrusion _or _an old man for that matter", she said, laughing with him. _No, he's the youngest old man I've ever met._

"'Are you keeping busy?" he asked.

"Yes, Mike had a new offer for me. I might soon be baking my own bread rolls if you can believe it". She looked puzzled for a moment. "Jean, how did you know I'd be here at the bakery?"

"Your roster is at headquarters, remember? And I like to keep track of you. Particularly given the past incidences, yes?". He gave her a look. "A new venture with Michael? A good young man, that one. Quite popular with the ladies, if rumours are correct".

"I'd not though you prone to gossip, Jean. He's a good friend. He's good to Village Harvest".

Valjean took a step closer. ""Ponine, I'm not inferring anything. You must excuse an old man. I hear everything. I was not meaning _you_. How is Enjolras anyhow? I hear from Cosette they are finding life on the road…interesting".

"I pity the person stuck on a bus with Enjolras", she laughed. "He is a night-owl, a creature of habit. He gets cranky in confined spaces, unless he is in solitude of deep thought. I'm not sure who I pity more. But they will do well out there, I imagine."

"And _you_? How are _you_ doing?" he pushed.

"I'm fine, Jean. Too busy to notice at the moment", she lied unsuccessfully. "He's due to call tonight. I'm sure I'll get to hear _all_ about it".

"Yes, well…I'll be around Eponine. I'll let you know when I'm flying out. Until then, if you need help, or a chat – I'm here". He gave her a reassuring pat as he started walking away.

"Thanks Jean", she called after him.

* * *

After delivering around the Village for almost two hours, Eponine finally pulled up her now-empty van to the parking space behind her apartment. It had been a good day. She had two more homeless people that she was hoping to find places for this week. She rummaged around in the front seat, finally grabbing her trusty satchel and front door keys, along with the small cylinder of mace that was now her constant companion. _It's going to take me a while to get over it all_, she thought.

Letting herself into the apartment, for a moment she forgot about the tour and half-expected to see Enjolras' in the living room or kitchen. If she squinted hard enough she could imagine him in the corner, scribbling madly away on his notepad.

True, it had only been just over two days but she was feeling pretty good. It was only at night when the empty spaces seemed bigger without him there - that she would feel his absence acutely. Her sleeping was erratic though she hoped that would fade. She was far too busy to be lacking sleep. When she rolled over, she would catch a vague scent of him on his pillow, and reached out for him, only to wake and find him not there.

But now, as she busied herself in the kitchen she felt independent and it felt good, she had to admit. After pouring herself a half a glass of wine, she opened the fridge looking inside for something to make for dinner. Pulling out a defrosted piece of fish, she decided to steam it with some green vegetables. Living with Enjolras had at least provided her with some good tips on healthy eating.

She put the stovetop on and as she waited for it to heat up, she wandered over to the vinyl records lining the living room, selecting one of her and Enjolras' favourites; Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love'.

Sitting down with her wine, she let the music take her over, as she flicked through the Village Voice. Even flicking through the pages reminded her of Les Amis, of sitting with them all in the coffee shops around the Village and discussing current affairs. She missed them all, but one in particular.

As her phone began to buzz she almost spilled her wine, such was her haste to answer it. She looked quickly at the clock on the wall_. He's early, its not even six o'clock_. Reaching for her phone, she frowned – and unknown cell number was flashing at her.

Picking it up she answered warily. "Hello?".

"Eponine?" said a cheery voice. "Its Mike. Mike from the bakery".


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N**: I'm playing again with the real life events of the Occupy movement, but several things I'm alluding to _did_ occur, including professional agitators joining or fighting against peaceful Occupy protestors in an effort to create anarchy and bring the real movement into disrepute.

Mike certainly caused uproar among readers of my fic – many PM's were received. Dear reader, have a little faith ;-)

As always, enjoy this chapter. Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_If Anybody Had a Heart"_ by John Waite

"_I Will Wait"_ by Mumford & Sons

* * *

_In this world of right and wrong,  
the hardest part is beginning  
By the time you find where you belong,  
you're either losing or winning_

_Well I don't know how, but people seem to know_  
_When you want somebody bad enough_  
_Well I want you now and wherever you go_  
_I'm gonna love ya till you've had enough, 'cos_

_If everyone had a heart, yours would never be broken_  
_If anybody had a heart like mine_

_People treat you like the clothes you wear,_  
_they only see what you show them_  
_Let them talk, baby I don't care,_  
_they don't know where we're goin'_

_I love you so much, and I have for so long,_  
_how could anybody doubt it?_  
_Oh just one little touch, this love is so strong_  
_Baby how can we live without it?_

_When you love somebody, you may stumble, you may fall_  
_But if you love somebody hard enough, maybe you can get it all_

_If Anybody Had a Heart by John Waite_

* * *

"Mike? Hi." Eponine said as she furrowed her brow, confused. This was _not_ the voice she expected to hear on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, uh Hi, I was just wondering if maybe you'd be up for the baking lesson tonight, rather than Thursday."

"Oh, aah, no, actually. I'm beat and I've just cooked dinner and I'm actually waiting on a call from my partner, sorry… my boyfriend. I mean, Enjolras is due to call and I'm really looking forward to that".

"You sure? I have a great bottle of red. We could bake and have a glass of it together".

This was getting uncomfortable. Eponine wasn't sure if anything was being implied but Mike was a contributor to her business, and aside from her relationship with Enjolras, she just wasn't comfortable being alone with people she didn't know very well since both attacks. Her apartment was her sanctuary, particularly after all that had happened. She needed to nip this in the bud.

"Mike, I appreciate the offer but I think it's best if we just wait until Thursday for the baking. But really thank you for all you're doing for Village Harvest. We're helping a great deal of people with our partnership. So, I'll see you Thursday?"

The disappointment in his voice was clear. "Sure. Sure…yeah. It was just a spur of the moment thought, you know? Good chatting with you Eponine. Have a good night".

"Goodnight Mike", replied Eponine. Putting the phone on the coffee table, she exhaled before grabbing the remote and putting the television on to catch the evening news.

After recapping international affairs briefly the anchor turned to more local news. Amongst the headlines was a report on an Occupy demonstration in downtown New York that afternoon. Apparently there were agitators in the group, and the peaceful protest had turned violent, with an officer of the NYPD injured as he tried to break up the melee.

Eponine frowned and wondered if Enjolras had seen the news yet. This wasn't good for the movement. Any dilution of the message could harm the cause. Particularly as they had already struggled against stereotypes that other causes had fallen victim to. They most definitely did not want to be seen as violent, though she knew in her heart if pushed, Enjolras would use physical force if necessary. The aim of the group though was equality through knowledge and peaceful participation.

* * *

After finishing another short gig at the behest of a local radio station in Shreveport that same afternoon, the band had gone to the Best Western hotel for dinner. The hotel chain wasn't top of the range, but they had the most coverage across the United States and were happy for the tour bus to park out the back. Valjean had given Enjolras a Best Western travel card. Any meals were to be charged to it, and if they required a little luxury they could book a room for proper showers once in a while.

Enjolras breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the bus. He hadn't yet found his rhythm with the tour, and the size of the venues was a distinct comedown in size from their appearance in Central Park. He knew however that this was just as important as their concert had been. This is where the continued support for the movement would come from.

He needed to work on his responses to interviewers. He had the vague idea that his answers were becoming repetitive. The last thing he wanted to do was become stale. It wasn't his verve for the cause he was weary of having waned. The message had to stay fresh.

As they made their way through the hotel foyer, it occurred to him how odd they must look. He didn't care for "cool" or being hip but he admitted the eyeballing they were getting from other hotel guests was vaguely amusing. What a rag-tag bunch they must look. Jehan, walking next to him was still stuck in a paisley phase, a l'a Prince circa 1989. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a lilac paisley tie, to match his lilac jeans. Around his wrist he was wearing a Swatch watch with a flower print. On his feet, bright green Converse. As bemusing as Jehan's fashion choices were, Enjolras always found his presence reassuring. There was something about Jehan that always helped to lighten his own mood.

Ahead of him he saw Joly, Musichetta and Boussuet, sauntering through the lobby with their arms looped around each other's hips. For a moment, seeing the intimacy implied between them, his own thoughts went to Eponine. He smiled ruefully; he could picture her now driving around the Village in her erratic way and handing out meals to the many street people who depended on her. He'd begun to think of the time apart as a test of his mettle. He was confident in his abilities as a leader, it came naturally. But as one half of a relationship – and a long distance one at that? This was something new. _Perhaps if I view it as an experiment I'll fare better_, he thought. And yet experiments don't come with memories of auburn hair curled around his shoulder, or tender touches in the dark of night, nor the thoughtfulness of a morning coffee made for him in his favourite cup.

He brushed aside those thoughts as the group entered the restaurant area of the hotel, sitting down at a large table where two large screen televisions were affixed on the walls at either end of the spacious room.

Enjolras ushered the others off to order their dinner first while he sat with Combeferre and Jehan, taking in the news updates. Shortly, the story Eponine had watched in New York appeared on screen. Enjolras shushed the two other men as he tried to listen to the story above the noise of the restaurant.

_And in other news today, an Occupy Wall Street protest in mid-town Manhattan this afternoon turned violent after protesters took umbrage at being asked to move on by the NYPD. One officer was hurt and several protesters were injured. After the incredible performance and fundraising in Central Park, this incident is surely a disappointment for leaders of the movement. Police are continuing to investigate._

"Well, that's not a good look, is it?" asked Jehan, as the reporter moved on to another story.

"This is _not_ the movement. This is not what the movement is about", said Combeferre, shaking his head at the screen.

Enjolras ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "We need to realise that there are elements that want to dismantle the cause. We're taking on corporations with an awful lot to lose. Do you know how many people we reached from Central Park? That is _very_ threatening to those we oppose".

He pursed his lips as he continued. "You both know how sharp my father is, yes? Imagine how many one percenter's there are just like him, looking at us, _sneering_ at us, wishing we'd go away and stop making them all feel guilty, or worse; reducing their profit margins."

"You don't really think your father wants you to go away, Enjolras", said Jehan.

"Well not me, as a person. But certainly that my opinions and those of the movement would up and leave and let them get on with it. Absolutely".

"Valjean is in New York. I'm sure he'll issue a statement about it", said Combeferre as the others came back from the counter.

"I imagine he will", agreed Enjolras. Bahorel sat down on the seat opposite him, his plate a veritable cornucopia of meat. Lashings of roast lamb and beef sat astride pork with a river of gravy and a mountain of mashed potato. Not a piece of greenery was to be found on the plate.

"Jesus! What is _that_?" said Jehan, aghast.

Bahorel looked at him bemused. "Dinner?"

"Do you know how much ozone you're going to destroy after you eat that meat? Do you know how much gas those animals blow into the air? It's a noxious gas-fest!?"

"Hey man, I'm trying to eat here!" shot back Bahorel.

"He's not saying you shouldn't eat meat – maybe just not the whole barnyard at once. It's not good for your colon", chimed in Joly.

Bahorel paled before standing up, holding his plate and dramatically sat down at the other end of the table. "If any of you get sushi and think it's environmentally sound and hip, you're going to get a fucking lecture from me on dramatically reduced bluefin tuna numbers, ok?"

A hearty chuckle came from behind them where Musichetta and Boussuet where just moving to take their seats.

"I didn't realise dinner would necessarily be political as well. Am I safe in choosing the dahl curry?" mused Boussuet.

"Quite safe, actually. It's good for you and the planet", said Feuilly.

"Hey, where's Marius and Cosette shot off to?" asked Combeferre, noticing their absence.

"They wanted to have dinner on their own tonight. They'll be back later" replied Enjolras, shuffling in his pocket for his phone.

"Have you gone soft, Enj?" asked Jehan, grinning at The Chief.

"I'm neither their parent nor their chaperone. Marius is on track. They have to live a little to know what they're fighting for.", he said, suddenly remembering a touch of skin on skin, a hand reaching out to grasp his own.

"I have to make a call", he muttered to no-one in particular, rising from his chair and making his way to the deserted smoker's terrace.

* * *

Eponine had just slipped into her pyjamas; leggings and oversized tee-shirt, when her phone rang on the coffee table. She grinned at the sound of the tune she'd allocated to indicate Enjolras was calling – Mumford & Sons "I Will Wait".

"About time", she said, not giving him a chance to speak.

He could hear the grin in her voice even from thousands of miles away. "Hello Eponine".

"Enjolras. Missing me yet?" It was said almost like a dare.

"It's been just over two days."

"That's not an answer, Chief".

Enjolras shuffled his feet. "Yes".

"Yes? That's it? Bowl me over with flowery prose Enjolras. I shall surely faint from it all".

"You're teasing me. I might not miss _that_".

"You do and you know it. Now, tell me about the tour, how is everyone? Is it really hot? How are the performances going?"

Enjolras smiled at the effervescence in her voice. He chuckled low into the phone. "The tour is going well so far, we've had two performances and a couple of people have taken pamphlets about the movement which is encouraging. Everyone is well".

"And you? How are you handling the bus?"

"It's pretty grim" he said seriously but then laughed. "It's actually good. Spirits are high".

Remembering what she'd seen earlier in the day Eponine changed the topic. "Enj, you didn't catch that news report on the Occupy protest here, did you?"

"Just now, funnily enough. Why?"

"I was just worried. You guys have worked so hard and – "

"It's a concern. But as I said to the band, there will be people looking to distract us, to disrupt us in any way possible. We just need to be wary and take care of it as it comes".

"Hmmm."

"How are things there? How is work?"

"It's good. Mike had a good idea for the leftover dough at the bakery. I might be baking my own bread".

"You? You can't cook to save yourself 'Ponine".

"I'm going to pretend not to be offended", she sniffed back. "Besides, Mike is going to show me how to do it".

_What is that twinge I'm feeling? "_Have I met Mike before?"

"Umm…maybe? When we did the rounds a few weeks ago? I'm not sure. He's been pretty generous to the _Harvest. _Enj, don't you want to know what I'm wearing?" She looked down at her leggings and pyjamas.

"What?" he spluttered, looking around the balcony to see if he was alone.

"You heard me. Alright, what are _you_ wearing?"

"Jeans and a t-shirt that smells like Feuilly's kranksy", he said looking down.

"Well _that_ just sounds wrong".

"I'm in the smoker's section of a Best Western. Creativity is not exactly flowing in this environment".

_Well it's flowing here,_ thought Eponine. "I'm wearing that black negligee you like so much. No underpants".

"Eponine", he said firmly.

"I think of you when I wear it", she said, pulling on her fluffy socks.

This would never do. He could actually feel himself getting aroused. _Think of something else. Think of something else. _

"Enj?" said a voice through the phone.

_Got it. Government bailing out big corp. _Concentrate._ Government bailing out big corporations. _Gradually, Enjolras retained his control.

"I'm here. 'Ponine, as inviting as the image is, that kind of talk is going to make the tour awfully long".

"I'm sorry".

"You're _not_".

'Will you call me before you go to sleep?" she asked.

"I will. Speak to you then?"

"Bye Enj".

She put down the phone and almost immediately it beeped at her.

She picked it up. Enjolras.

"Yes?", she smirked.

"You asked what I missed? The scent of your skin - vanilla and gardenia. If I try hard enough I can close my eyes and the scent of you comes to me". He paused. "I'll call you at ten."

She looked at the phone and put it down with a smile.


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N**: In this chapter I've used real life incidents in October 2011, involving the Occupy Movement in Texas, Atlanta and Oregon. The first signs of a serious attempt to dismantle Occupy begin to take shape in this chapter. Some laws regarding protests have also been altered to suit the story. I hope this chapter isn't confusing – I had to keep switching between New York and Texas as things unfold in the course of the same day.

A big thank you to my Texas buddy seredhiel05 (on Tumblr) who gave me some great insight on Austin. And a shoutout to the lovely lesbiansmisunderstood (also on Tumblr) who did some amazing cover art for my story.

Constructive criticism and reviews welcome.

**Songs listened to:**

_"Thursday's Child"_ by David Bowie

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_All of my life I've tried so hard  
Doing my best with what I had  
Nothing much happened all the same_

_Something about me stood apart  
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail  
Maybe I'm born right out of my time  
Breaking my life in two_

_Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Now that I really got a chance  
Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Everything's falling into place_

_Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Seeing my past to let it go, yeah  
Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Only for you, I don't regret_

_And I was Thursday's child  
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was  
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was_

_Sometimes I cry my heart to sleep  
Shuffling days and lonesome nights  
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet_

_Lucky old sun is in my sky  
Nothing prepared me for your smile  
Lighting the darkness of my soul  
Innocence in your arms_

_Throw me, throw me_

_Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Now that I really got a chance  
Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Everything's falling into place_

_Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Seeing my past to let it go, yeah  
Throw me tomorrow, oh oh  
Only for you, I don't regret_

_That I was Thursday's child_

_ - Thursday's Child, David Bowie_

* * *

_**New York**_

Thursday came around quickly. But then, Eponine's days were so easily filled it wasn't really that surprising. She'd finally given up shifts at The Musain, but still felt a sense of longing each time she walked pass the building. Any spare time she had was used either chasing up more sponsors for her charity or studying. She found with the salary she was being paid to run Village Harvest, that she actually had money in the bank for the very first time in her life. She was too busy to spend it and in the back of her mind she didn't really want to. Most of her life she had been on or under the poverty line and inside her still lived a nagging fear that one day those times might return.

Winter was fast approaching. Along the streets, trees were becoming bare, their leaves stripped by the cold wind, leaving only skeletal bones as a reminder of the life had flourished there previously. A greyness descended upon the city. Eponine was concerned with trying to get as many of her regulars into housing before the true, biting cold of the season was upon them. Illness and death came to visit upon the destitute as the temperature decreased, and Eponine felt as though in a battle against Mother Nature and Father Time themselves to get her charges into shelter. Now, more than ever it rested upon her how important the simple act of a hot meal could be. She was a link in a community chain.

As she pulled up her van outside Mike's bakery at 2.45pm, she chanced to look into the alleyway beside her. From a distance someone she could have sworn was Mike himself, was engaged in a heated discussion with an older man. Eponine narrowed her eyes in a vain attempt to see more clearly. Too late, the scene was over and Mike - or what looked like Mike – nodded his head at the older gentleman before retreating into a side door.

Eponine blinked hard as she tried to digest what she'd seen. The day-to-day bakery business was none of her concern, but Mike was usually such an amiable guy that it struck her as distinctly odd_. Mind your business Eponine, this has nothing to do with you_, said a voice her head. _I've had enough intrigue and drama to last me to the next millennia._

* * *

_**Texas**_

From Louisiana, Les Amis crossed the border into Texas. It was such an enormous state that they made a decision via teleconference with Valjean to hit only the main cities. They'd held a successful rally in Houston and were now on the final leg of their journey on Highway 71, headed towards Austin.

Peter, their bus driver, was a large, friendly man, aged around sixty years old. In his heyday, he'd been the limo driver for visiting bands to the U.S., mostly British artists, such as Led Zeppelin, Eric Clapton and The Beatles to name only a few. Driving the bus for Les Amis was certainly different. No groupies on board, no drugs and no bad behaviour to speak of. Some of them reminded him of his own sons and as such he felt protective of them. They were more like Bob Dylan than the Rolling Stones in their convictions. As he drove down the highway he chanced a glance in the mirror…

Enjolras was laying on his bunk bed, deep in thought as he intermittently wrote in his notepad, occasionally giving an irritated glance upwards where Marius and Cosette were chatting and giggling in the bed directly over him.

Bahorel, Feuilly, Boussuet and Combeferre were watching ESPN Sportscentre on the small television at the front of the bus and arguing over European football.

Joly and Musichetta were at the back of the bus. On a portable keyboard he was sounding out a new melody to her as she listened, enthralled.

Only Jehan sat alone, wistfully looking out to the beautiful fields of Texas bluebonnets laid out on either side of the highway.

"Enj?", he said, turning to the bed where Enjolras lay. "Do you think we could go out tonight? It's a free night tonight, isn't it?"

"Yeah, we could do that. There's a rally on in Austin that I'd like us to attend and show support to – especially as Combeferre and Marius are still looking to link up with intercity Occupy networks, but afterwards we could venture out. What say the rest of you?"

Agreements and mumbles of approval came from all corners of the bus. It would do all of them good to get local perspective and culture.

* * *

_**New York**_

Eponine tooted the horn as she saw Mike exit the main bakery door. He smiled warmly at her, and waved back. It couldn't have been him in the alley, he's far too happy. He jumped in the passenger door, moving aside the excess plastic good containers Eponine had put there, putting them on the floor. In his lap he held a large bag which she presumed was the leftover dough.

"Oops, sorry. I really need to clean out this part of the van," she said apologetically.

"That's ok. Ready to do some baking?" he asked, grinning.

"Sure. I hope you also brought a good supply of patience with you", she laughed.

Peak hour traffic hadn't yet started but New York was New York and the streets were still relatively crowded. By the time they reached Eponine's apartment, she'd cut off two cabs and flipped off a tourist bus. Mike exited the van a little shaken by the experience. The inside door handle still showed a fine imprint of the sweat from his hand.

"Do you always drive like that?" he said, getting out of the vehicle.

"Like what?" she shot back. "Oh yeah, I guess I shouldn't have given the bird to the bus, especially in the work van – not very charitable. Old habits, die hard", she smirked, hardly sorry at all.

Her elderly neighbour Mrs Parkinson greeted her as they walked up the stoop. "Hello dear, how are you?" she asked, giving Eponine a warm smile. She liked Eponine. The girl reminded her of the spitfire she herself had been in her youth. And ever since the attack on the premises, she'd softened and felt particularly protective to the young woman and her boyfriend.

"I'm good thanks, Mrs P".

"And who is _this_?" she said, looking down her glasses at Mike.

"This is Michael, Mrs Parkinson. He donates to my organisation. He's going to show us how to make bread." she explained.

"Us?" said Mike.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Thursday's are my day with my brother, Gavroche. That's alright isn't it?" asked Eponine.

"Sure, I mean of course, I just thought it would be the two of us. I mean, for instructions sake.", he replied.

"Nope, 'fraid not. Don't worry he won't be too much distraction".

Mrs Parkinson looked from one to the other, paying particular attention to Michael. She frowned.

"And have you heard from Enjolras today, Eponine? Now _there's_ a fine example of manhood. I tell you, if I was forty years younger.. .and such a good heart, such _fire_. You'd be wise to hang on to him", she said pertinently.

Eponine scratched her head, bemusedly. "I have no intention of letting him go, Mrs P", she replied, winking at her. At that moment, the car of Gavroche's foster mother pulled up to the curb.

"Hey Sarah", greeted Eponine as her brother jumped out of the car.

"I'll pick him up in the morning 'Ponine, ok?", asked Sarah. Eponine nodded and they both stood for a moment waving goodbye.

"Let's go in", she said to Gavroche'. Mike trailed behind leaving a suspicious Mrs Parkinson alone on the steps.

* * *

**Texas**

It was only four pm when they rolled into Austin. After showering on the bus, the band was ready to go to the Occupy rally soon as Peter brought the vehicle to a stop at the Best Western Atrium Hotel. Combeferre had already sent a text to the Occupy leader there, so they were expected.

"Where are we meeting them, 'Ferre?" asked Joly.

"The South Steps of the Capitol. It sounds like it's going to be big. They have their hands full down here. It's not only financial. All sorts of issues are in the melting pot. A large contingent are also protesting women's rights, the right to choose. Students are apparently going to walk off UT campus and join us, protesting against student debt."

"Occupy is against oppression of any kind, inequality of any kind 'Ferre", replied Enjolras. "People are being stripped of their agency. I've just been reading up Occupy Austin. It's obvious that they're learning on the fly, just like us," he said. "And over time, they've changed their perspective and tactics according to changing circumstances. But they've had to teach themselves how to do things – to engage in public activism – that have been largely forgotten. They're committed, like us. I can't wait to meet them."

They caught the bus down I-35 from the hotel down to the State Capitol. As they got closer, they could see people on either side of the road making their way there as well, carrying signs and chanting Occupy slogans. A shiver of anticipation ran through them all. This is what they lived for: revolution.

When they arrived they took some time to blend into the crowd and get a feel for the atmosphere. They were hoping to remain largely anonymous but the Central Park concert had given them a much larger profile than any of them had imagined, and soon they found themselves the recipients of pats on the back, people of all ages wanting to shake their hands, and talk to them. Enjolras tried to downplay it. As much as possible he wanted to feel the newness of being part of the movement. Thankfully after twenty minutes or so, the crowd, while excited to see them there and buoyed by their support – let them be for the most part.

The attention made it easy for the Occupy Austin leader, Aiden, to find them. Combeferre recognised him immediately from his Twitter profile, as he strolled towards them across the thick, green lawn in front of the capitol building. "Welcome to Austin brothers, sisters", he said, shaking all their hands. "We're just about to get under way. I'm so happy you could make it. What you did in New York gave the whole movement a boost".

As the crowd assembled to hear speeches by various movement and civil liberties speakers, Enjolras looked around. It was larger than he'd thought, and the media had shown up in force to capture it. Scanning the crowd to gauge the makeup of it, he saw a large group setting up large tables with food and urns. Remembering the strict ordinances imposed in New York City on their own protests, it gave him pause.

He turned to Combeferre. "'Ferre, take a look over there. Tell me what you see. Does anything seem out of place?"

Turning to where Enjolras had directed, Combeferre saw nothing out of the ordinary at first. Then suddenly it dawned on him. The clothing, the demeanour – _everything_ was out of place. And the entire crowd, save this group were turned towards the front where Aiden was just about to speak.

"That group?"

"Indeed. I seem to recall ordinances in New York on our rallies prohibiting us setting up food or encampments. And something about them is trying too hard, don't they look like they're…playing dress up as Occupiers? Like they saw it in a book and copied it?"

"Should we ask them to take it down? We need to speak with Aiden. I don't know what the ordinances are here in Texas."

Turning to the hastily erected stage, they listened to Aiden as he continued to speak to the assembled masses.

"…_and to anyone that thinks that the Occupy movement will slowly fade away, you are wrong. ... As the economic state of this country continues to decline, as women's rights threaten to be eroded, as students leave college only to find themselves in debt - the movement will just continue to grow; this is an experience that we will carry with us for our entire lives. ... We have learned to listen to each other, to stand beside each other, and to fight for each other. ... This is solidarity. This is Occupy Austin!"_

"He's good", said Marius.

"He's exceptional", agreed Enjolras." I hope this is what we find all over the country".

Hearing a scuffle behind them, the group turned as one to find police officers in a heated discussion with the group that had been setting up the tables. Other protesters started to defend them as police told them to pack up and move on. A police officer was jostled by a woman at the table, and then all hell broke loose.

The original group were now using force to defend themselves, and police were lashing out not only at them but at others in the crowd. "Police brutality! Police brutality!", the group began shouting and the cries were getting louder as others joined in.

"Everyone stay calm", yelled Combeferre, trying in vain to keep the peace. He ran over to the mob, trying to pull people out, only to find himself on the receiving end of a baton. He put his hand to his face, already feeling the swell of bruised flesh on his cheekbone. Before the officer had the chance to strike him again, he suddenly felt himself pulled along the lawn in the opposite direction. He looked up to find Boussuet and Musichetta standing over him.

And then Marius was in his face, yelling, "Where's Enjolras?" Cosette, who was by his side, pointed across the field. "There!"

Enjolras was clear across the other side of the lawn with Bahorel and Feuilly, pulling as many protesters away from the scrum of police officers as he could. "It's not real. It's not real!", he was shouting."It's a setup! Move away! Move _away!"_

Some listened to him, recognising him in an instant, but others too caught up in the moment and flushed with adrenalin continued on, pushing back in a group against the authorities. It was only at the appearance of mounted police officers did they start to back down. By that time, the lawn of Austin State Capitol looked like a war zone. Captured by the media crews scattered around the grounds was a scene of complete disarray and anarchy.

Enjolras out of breath, made his way back to the others. "Is everyone alright? Where's Joly?"

"He's tending to the injured. What the fuck happened, Enj?" asked Combeferre.

"Entrapment. That's the name I'd give it. Where's Aiden?" he enquired after the Austin leader.

"I saw him loaded into a police van", said Cosette.

"Hell. We have to get out of here. Then we have to make sure he has lawyers_. I'll_ represent him if I have to. This has all the hallmarks of a setup", said Enjolras. His thoughts turned to Eponine in New York.

* * *

_**Breaking news – YNN – Your News Now – Live from Austin.**_

_Today in Austin, Texas, authorities were forced to move in after a large Occupy Austin rally became violent. Police say a small portion of the rally attendees were violating city rules and when asked to leave the protest site they became agitated. That agitation soon spread amongst the thousands of protesters present. In total, police arrested thirty-eight people including the group's leader known only as Aiden. Witnesses at the time say they also recognised Occupy Wall Street leaders from New York at the rally this afternoon._

_Demonstrators across the country are protesting corporate greed and corruption. Many say the nation's wealthiest 1% hold inordinate sway over the remaining 99% of the population._

_Scores of protesters have been arrested nationwide during the weeks-long "Occupy" movement._

_On Friday, police said fifty-one demonstrators in San Diego, California, were arrested for various charges, including encroachment, unlawful assembly, illegal lodging and obstruction of officers._

_Three others were arrested on similar charges in Tampa, Florida, according to a police statement._

_In Nashville, Tennessee, authorities arrested more than two dozen protesters overnight Saturday, after they again defied a curfew imposed by the state's governor. Twenty-six people received citations for trespassing, while two others were cited for public intoxication, according to Tennessee public safety spokeswoman Dalya Qualls._

_Despite recent crackdowns against demonstrators nationwide, the loosely defined "Occupy" movement does not appear to be losing steam._

_In New York, where the Occupy movement was born, protesters braved snow, sleet and rain during an unusually early snowstorm in the Northeast yesterday._

_More news at 10pm._

* * *

_**New York**_

Twilight comes early on cold days like today in New York. The shadows were already getting longer as Mike set up the dough on the bench in Eponine's. Asking Eponine for a large, stainless steel bowl, he put the large ball of dough in it, and they watched as it expanded to fit the space, then asked her turn the oven on.

Gavroche was sitting on the living room floor as they began baking, checking out Eponine's records before putting on Guns N'Roses _'Appetite for Destruction', _and reading one of Eponine's vintage MAD magazines.

"Don't we need to let it sit overnight?" asked Eponine.

"No, I've already proofed this dough; it'll be fine in a couple of minutes once it's settled. I just need some flour and a flat surface. Why don't we have a glass of wine while we wait?" he suggested, pulling out a bottle of cabernet merlot from his backpack.

"Uh…sure", she replied, getting two glasses down from the cupboard behind her, before leaning over and getting the flour container from the one next to it.

"Do you mind if I open the curtains?" Mike asked. "It's such a nice night and we can catch the last of the sun".

"I guess so". He walked over to the living room, opening the curtains that viewed the main street. When he was done he returned to where Eponine was standing by the bench.

"Okay Eponine, I'm going to direct you, and just let you know when or rather _if_ you make a mistake, alright?". She nodded and he began.

"Ok, so sprinkle the flour over the bench evenly. Right, now what you want to do is get the dough out and knead it a little bit, stretch it out", he instructed. "Nope, give it a bit more. Here, let me help you". He moved around behind Eponine, putting his hands under her arms and helping her knead the dough. When she felt him behind her closely, she almost jumped a mile. This felt distinctly too intimate.

"Hey!" said Gavroche, barging into the kitchen and in the middle of them, just as Eponine had been about to move away. "Can _I_ help? I do baking at school. I'm pretty good at it too", he said proudly, giving Eponine another bump with his hips and a sidelong glance, moving her further away from Mike.

"Oh, this is really for professional bakers, Gavroche"' said Mike. "I'm showing your sister something that might help her charity".

"He's alright. Just give him a bit of dough and he can do it with us", said Eponine. Mike gave a half-hearted smile and nodded. "More wine?"

"I'm fine for now, thanks", she replied. Random thoughts had begun percolating in her brain. Something she couldn't put her finger on, just out of reach. More than just Mike acting so differently.

After they'd rolled the dough and separated it into smaller balls, they placed it on the baking trays Mike had brought with him. "They have to cook for about fifteen to twenty minutes".

After spending some time helping Eponine clean up the kitchen, Mike took his wine and sat at the one seater chair in the living room, as Eponine made herself comfortable in the two-seater by the window. Gavroche was again sitting on the floor, seemingly engrossed in MAD magazine again.

Mike was suddenly on his feet, pointing to something outside her window. "Hey is that a screech owl in the tree?" he said moving over to where Eponine was sitting. "They're becoming more common in the city you know. There are tons of them in Central Park".

Eponine turned to look out the window, squinting into the tree but seeing nothing. "I don't see it". Kneeling on the seat next to her he leaned in pointing again to the tree. His knee resting on hers. Again, it felt too close to Eponine. Before she had time to digest her thoughts, Gavroche had jumped on the lounge pushing his way between them. This time Mike was visibly irritated. "Hey, show me! Let me see!" he said, jumping up and down on his knees.

Ding! The oven timer went off. _Saved by the bell?,_ thought Eponine. "I better get those", she said. Making her way over to the oven, she pulled out the trays. On them, lay a dozen perfectly cooked dinner rolls. "This will be great Mike. I think I'll be able to manage it".

"Uh, that's great Eponine. I'm sorry I just got a text and I have to go – family business. I'll see you on the next round?" he asked, hurriedly packing up his bag and walking towards the door.

"Sure. See you then. Thanks Mike". She closed the door and turned around, exhaling only to find Gavroche standing in front of her, hands on hips.

"What the hell was that about 'Ponine? That guy was all..coming on to you..lovey, dovey. I was about to deck 'im."

"I'm aware Gav'. I had to let it play out for a moment. Do you think I'm stupid? Something's up. That's not the Mike I know".

"Good. Because he may be a bourgeois boy, but I'd take Enj over _that_ guy any day", he said adamantly.

She ruffled his hair. "Me too 'Gav. Me too". Looking at her phone, she opened up her contact list and chose the contact she'd named "Ange de Feu". She needed to talk to Enjolras.

* * *

On his way down the street, Mike pulled his own cell phone from his jeans pocket, texting a message. _Did you get the shot at the window? _In a moment a return message beeped at him_. No, the kid was in the way. Pic needs to be of just you 2._

* * *

**A/N**: This is in no way a disparagement on the entire Austin police force, _but_ it is based on factual reports of a splinter group that did, in fact perpetrate agent provocateur acts during Occupy Austin.

***Ange de Feu* = Fiery Angel**


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N**: Neither Eponine nor Enjolras are the type to sit back and just let things happen to them are they? This chapter sees them become a bit more pro-active against opposing forces. And trying to find intimacy while being in a long distance relationship.

Note: There's a text message stream in this chapter. Don't forget to read it backwards – last message is first.

Café Grumpy in Chelsea, New York is a real place and it looks fantastic

Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

"_Miss Independent", by Kelly Clarkson_

* * *

_In the heart of our country  
There's a killer without a gun  
We're afraid to be no longer free  
To trust a loving one  
So I say a prayer for you_

_In the heart of the darkness_  
_There's a killer without a name_  
_Nowhere to hide_  
_No mountain side..._  
_The city's all the same_  
_So please say a prayer for me_

_Oh listen people..._

_Out of the dark silence_  
_How in the world will we survive_  
_Love in a dangerous time_

_In the heart of our children_  
_Where the simple things are true_  
_There's so much to learn_  
_When the world has turned_  
_Turning on you_  
_Open eyes show us what to do_

_Fight our way through open doors_  
_Blind to what we see before us_  
_Fools who make the rules_  
_Commit the crimes...let's lay it on the line_

_Out of the dark silence_  
_How in the world will we survive_  
_Love in a dangerous time_

_In the heart of the darkness_  
_In the heart of the country_  
_In the heart of our lovers_  
_In the heart of the children_

_Listen people..._  
_We can play it cool or play it wise_  
_When life is on the line_

"_Love in a Dangerous Time", Hall & Oates_

* * *

**Texas**

After getting dinner at the hotel, the band now were gathered around the dining table in the back of the bus, frantically discussing possible theories behind the melee' at the State Capitol.

"What did you _see_, Enjolras? Tell us again. Are you quite certain of it?" asked Marius.

"I only know what my instincts and eyes told me. Combeferre saw it as well", he replied. Combeferre nodded his agreement. "There were agent provocateurs in the crowd. And given how many reports of similar incidents in other states I can only gather that they are active there as well".

He brushed his hand through his dirty blonde hair, frowning. "I expected at some point this would occur, but this early? We've upset the apple cart, there's no doubting it, and these people are _organised"_.

"And their focus is to discredit us?" asked Joly. "I mean, people were really getting hurt out there". He shuddered and Musichetta put her hand on his knee to steady him.

"Their focus is create an idea in the public's mind that Occupy protesters are disorganised, have no idea what they're protesting for, and are prone to violence", said Enjolras. His face darkened, as he stood up and walked around the table.

"I think we should expect this every place we go. We need to get in contact with every Occupy leader in every city we're going to. We need to come up with a strategy".

"Wait, how do you combat violence and dissent, in a dissenting crowd?" said Feuilly.

"With peace", said Combeferre. Enjolras turned to him, questioningly. "Yes _peace_. The greatest protest I ever saw was in Madrid, Spain, remember that? We were _all_ moved. Tens of thousands of people, everyday Spaniards protested against ETA, the violent Basque guerrilla group. And they did it peacefully, despite agitators in the crowd. We should take a leaf out of their book".

"How do we communicate it?" asked Bahorel.

"Get on the underground wire", advised Enjolras. "Marius, Feuilly and 'Ferre, you've been collating contacts – use them. We'll come up with a combat strategy and let them know. I think 'Ferre is right, we need to fight back – but with our brains not our fists".

"Does anyone else need a drink?" asked Jehan. He was shaken by the violence he'd seen, and his nerves were in need of soothing. At the Capitol he'd had to come to the rescue of returned Iraqi war veteran that had almost been trampled by a mounted policeman.

"_I_ do", replied Bahorel.

"I have to admit, I could use a beer", agreed Combeferre. "Are we still keen to go to the Mean-Eyed Cat Bar, the music there is supposed to be great".

"Do me a favour, all of you?", asked Enjolras. "Please, for tonight, just have a drink at the hotel bar. I think we need to stay close at the moment".

"Travelling salesmen and lonely women. Sounds like a blast", said Feuilly dryly.

"Fine", relented Bahorel. "I don't want to get rolling drunk anyhow. I just need to relax after today".

They gathered themselves up and made their way to the door of the bus where Peter joined them as well. "You boys had me worried today – I think I might tag along with you" said the jovial driver. Jehan patted him on the back.

"You're always welcome Pete. You know I wanted to pick your brain about The Beatles – what was Lennon really like?" he asked. He turned to see Enjolras pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "You coming?" he asked.

Enjolras nodded his head. "Give me fifteen minutes – you go ahead, I'll lock up the bus".

"Ok, you could use some relaxation yourself you know?".

"I'm fine. I'll see you in a bit", he said, closing the bus door as the group made its way across the carpark to the hotel.

As if on cue his phone began to ring to the sound of Kelly Clarkson's 'Miss Independent'. _Eponine_.

* * *

"I was just about to call you", Enjolras said into the phone, taking a seat on his bunk bed.

"You sound wired, is everything alright?" Eponine asked.

'It hasn't made the news there yet?"

"Oh God, what's happened _now_? No, I didn't catch the news tonight, which is another story altogether", she said, closing her door and taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Gavroche had gone to bed over an hour ago on the lounge and was fast asleep with his headphones on.

"Are you ok?", he asked.

"I'm fine. You go first".

"I think we've got trouble. No, I _know_ we've got trouble. We've got rogue elements looking to disrupt any Occupy gatherings of note. To me, it looks like the ones where the media would most likely be present, to get it on film. There was a big scuffle today at the Capitol".

Eponine narrowed her eyes. "Any idea who _they_ are? Where they're coming from? Did any of you get hurt?"

"Combeferre got a hit to the face but he's ok. There were other injuries in the crowd though. I have some ideas but nothing concrete. It could be the authorities though today it just looked reactionary from them. It could be funded by big business. I want you to be on the lookout Eponine. You need to be wary too, just because you're associated with me. Now, what happened today?"

"I don't know. Maybe something, maybe nothing. Mike is acting weird. We had our baking session today, and I felt like he was… _manoeuvring_ me. He was very touchy-feely which isn't Mike at all".

Enjolras felt a muscle in his face twitch. "What _exactly_ do you mean by touchy-feely? Did he put his hands on you?"

"Sort of. I mean it was in the course of showing me how to bake. Before you get cross, Gavroche was there too, and I would never allow that to happen". She listened to him breathing on the other end of the line.

"Enj? I can _hear _you. If it lightens the load, Mrs Parkinson had your back as well. I think she fancies you".

"I don't think you should bake with him again, 'Ponine", he said suddenly.

"I can take care of myself, Enjolras", she replied. "Besides, I have a plan".

"Don't get yourself into trouble", he said firmly.

"Bah! I may have changed my name to Jondrette, but sometimes it's good to let the Thenardier come out to play – I'll be _fine_".

"Do I want to know about this plan?" asked Enjolras, at once concerned and intrigued.

"No, not really", she smirked. Enjolras would _not_ approve. "Are you alone?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I thought we could have a little fun". She thought of his blonde hair and dark blue eyes, the petulant lower lip.

"You're three-thousand miles away. It's logistically impossible", he said, though he knew what she was hinting at.

"We could talk about it. Don't you think about it? Don't you think about _me_?", she asked, lowering her voice.

He swallowed hard before replying. "Eponine, I'm not entirely comfort-"

"Because I think about you. When I'm by myself I think of you kissing me, how your lips feel on mine". As she spoke she started undoing the buttons down the front of her shirt. "Unzip your pants, Enjolras. _Now_".

"_Eponine_", he protested, yet at the same time he took a moment to part the curtains near his bed and look outside. They'd be there for at least another two hours. He could already feel his partial arousal as he dropped the zip on his jeans.

"Enj, I'm touching myself right now", she said putting her hand underneath her skirt and removing her underwear. Lazily, she circled her breast, imagining her hands were his. "Enjolras? Put your hand around it. Stroke it a little, pretend it's my mouth on you".

She heard him intake sharply. That was something they hadn't done yet. "Do you want to talk too?" she asked him.

"I can't… I don't know …", he said, his breath catching.

"That's ok", she said softly. "My mouth is on you, warm and wet. You're so hard in my mouth and you taste really good". Eponine moved her hand down to her underwear and slipped a finger under the material. She let out a light sigh.

"I'm going to suck a little harder now". She heard him groan as she spoke. "I'm going to run my tongue around the tip. I'm so wet just thinking having you in my mouth. I wish these were your fingers inside me".

She could hear his heavy breathing on the other end of the line and knew he was listening as he used his hand to pleasure himself.

"Oh God, keep talking Eponine", he said roughly. He was fully erect now, his eyes closed as he imagined being alone with her, picturing her dark head of hair between his thighs, as well as what he could hear her doing to herself.

"I'm putting my hand around the base, and I'm licking up and down the shaft. Mmm.. don't stop Enjolras. Just keep listening".

He put the phone on speaker and put it beside him, his strokes getting faster and his breath shorter, as he listened to her moaning while she imagined it was his fingers inside her wet core, and his thumb furiously rubbing her most sensitive part simultaneously.

"I'm going to come", he said, hearing her groans in his ear.

Breathing hard she rolled towards the phone, "Mmm…me too". Closing her eyes she could almost see him there as her hips bucked hard with her orgasm. "Oh, oh yes!", she screamed, and she heard him groan loudly as he came shortly after, his wetness dripping down to the hand still clenched around his member.

There was silence on both ends of the line as they tried to collect themselves whilst simultaneously basking in the shared intimacy.

"I love you. I'll call you tomorrow", she said.

"I love you too", he said. After ending the call he lay prone for a moment, before realising the awkward situation he would be in if one of the others happened upon him in this state. Reluctantly he got up from the bed and made a move towards the bathroom.

* * *

The next morning Eponine put her plan into action. Texting Mike, she asked to meet him for an afternoon coffee at Café Grumpy on West 20th Street in Chelsea after his shift. At almost lightning speed she received a text back. _Sounds great, see you at 2.30pm._

Eponine spent the rest of her free day running her errands, stopping by the local farmer's market to pick up her fruit and vegetables, and other goods. She spent some time at the flea market, doing a deal for some vinyl records. On the way home she stopped in for a moment at her local pharmacy.

After lunch, she got dressed for coffee with Mike. She wore her fitted blue jeans with boots, a White Stripes t-shirt and her black blazer, topped with a loosely knotted scarf, and hoop earrings; the epitome of Village chic. She packed her satchel, making sure to include everything she needed for the meeting.

* * *

Mike was already waiting for her on the sidewalk outside Café Grumpy when she arrived. He gave her a big grin as he spotted her.

"Hey Eponine. I was surprised to hear from you. But glad", he said.

"Why surprised? We're business partners after all", she replied.

"Of course, it's just…"

"What?"

"Oh nothing. Shall we go in, it's chilly out here. I spotted a good table, right by the window". He opened the door as they made their way into the café.

"Actually, would you mind if we sat out the back? They have a fireplace out there in the courtyard".

Mike frowned. "Uh-sure, I guess".

He looked up to find Eponine studying his face. "Great."

"Table for two?" asked the waitress.

"Yes. In the courtyard please", replied Eponine.

"Did you want to order now?"

"Sure, I'll take a slice of the lemon meringue pie and a skinny cappuccino please", said Eponine.

"Black forest cake and a double shot of espresso", added Mike.

"Ok, grab a table and I'll be out in a moment".

They walked through the bustling café to the enclosed courtyard at the rear. The brick walls were lined with ivy and fairy lights, and in the centre was a large stone fireplace.

They sat down at a table in the corner, Eponine make sure to sit where she could see the whole area. She put her bag beside her and her phone on the table. "Hey, what kind of phone do you have? I'm thinking of upgrading?" she asked him.

He pulled his phone out and shrugged. 'I have an iPhone. It's pretty good". He put his phone on the table opposite hers.

The service was remarkably quick for such a busy place. After just five minutes, while Eponine and Mike were making small talk, a waiter appeared with their coffees. Letting the waiter walk inside, Eponine frowned. "Oh damn!"

"What's wrong?" asked Mike.

"I changed my mind on the cake. Do you think you could run after the waiter for me? Change it to a slice of apple pie?", she asked sheepishly.

He grinned. "Sure, no worries. Back in a jiffy".

As he hurried inside the café, Eponine reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial of tasteless MiraLAX powder. Making sure no-one was looking, she opened it and poured a good measure into Mike's coffee, before carefully stirring it in. Placing it quickly back in her pocket, she pretended to check her phone messages. Soon, Mike appeared again in the doorway.

"Done. Just in the nick of time. They were just about to cut the cakes. It'll be out in a minute".

"Thanks Mike" she said. "The whims of being a woman…so fickle". She took a sip of her beverage. "Mmm.. the coffee is really good here".

He picked up his own cup and took a large gulp. "It _is_ good. It's on the menu as a Heartbreaker Espresso, made from beans sourced in Columbia and Costa Rica. Great name huh?"

She laughed. "It is". Their desserts came out and for the next fifteen minutes they made small talk, mostly about the bakery and Eponine's work with her charity. Suddenly, in the midst of conversation a pained look came over Mike's face. And even from where Eponine sat across the table, she heard his stomach rumble.

"I'm so sorry", said Mike. "I guess maybe the coffee or the cake didn't agree with me".

"It's fine", smiled Eponine. "Now, you were telling me how to make the perfect croissant".

"Well you have to roll it with the palm of your hand and then-". He squeezed his eyes shut as another stomach pang came. He stood up quickly. "Could you excuse me for a moment, Eponine?"

"Sure. You okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine". He pushed his chair back and hurriedly made his way inside the café.

* * *

When she was sure he was gone, Eponine discreetly reached over and grabbed his phone which he'd left on the table in his haste.

Scrolling through his messages, she looked for anything out of the ordinary. _Nothing_. Most of them were related to the day-to-day running of the bakery. And then she saw it, she read the conversation stream backwards:

_(212) 8763-0600: I don't see you. Where the fuck are you?_

_(212) 8763-0600: Done. Remember to lean in close so I get the shot._

**Mike:** She called me. This is your chance. Café Grumpy – Chelsea. I'll get a seat by the window.

_(212) 8763-0600: No, the kid was in the way. Pic needs to be of just you 2._

**Mike** :Did you get the shot at the window?

Eponine froze. Whose apartment? Hers? Everything started falling into place. She looked up to make sure Mike wasn't on his way back and kept reading…

_(212) 8763-0600: Yes. I'll follow you to her apartment. You know what to do._

**Mike:** You following?

_(212) 8763-0600: You know what's at stake if you don't._

**Mike:** I don't want to do this. It's wrong.

The next messages from that number were dated the day before. Eponine squinted her eyes as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

_(212) 8763-0600: It wasn't a request. 2.30pm._

**Mike**: It's too public.

_(212) 8763-0600: I'll be in the alley behind the bakery 2.30. Be there._

That was all. Eponine looked up. Mike still wasn't back. She had to go. She felt sick. And angry. What was going on? She could tell from the messages that Mike wasn't do this of his own accord. They were trying to get pictures of the two of them. Why? To discredit her? What good would that do? What did this person have on Mike?

She pulled out her own phone and took a snap of Mike's, getting the whole conversation in the photo. _I might need evidence. _Though evidence of what exactly, she didn't know for sure.

Getting her things together, she thought how Enjolras might react to a picture like that. _He'd come home._ She stopped, looking up and barely breathing. _Enjolras would come home_. It would disrupt the tour. And the cause. She could see no other reason. There was nothing to be gained from _her_ or her charity. It had to be to do with Occupy and Enjolras.

She walked quickly towards the counter inside the café'. Pulling her wallet from her bag, she paid the whole bill. Giving Mike's phone to the manager, she asked her to return it to him once he finally came out of the bathroom.

Out on the street she hailed a cab to take her home. Getting in, she gave the driver her address before sending off a text of her own to Enjolras. _Call me when you get this. __We might have trouble here as well._


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N**: I'm not going to defend what Eponine does in this chapter, except to say when pushed and people are threatening things you hold dear…well…people do the _strangest_ things.

Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

_"Children of the Revolution"_ by T Rex

_"Lucky Man"_ by The Verve

* * *

_Well you can bump and grind  
It is good for your mind  
Well you can twist and shout let it all hang out_

_But you won't fool the children of the revolution  
No you won't fool the children of the revolution,_

_- "Children of the Revolution", by T Rex_

* * *

It was nine p.m. Mike was home, and exhausted. Just barely making it home in time in the cab, he'd spent most of the rest of the afternoon and early evening ensconced in his bathroom, yelling for God into the toilet bowl. Now, finally the turmoil his stomach had endured, had subsided and he was sitting down to a late dinner of dry toast and a glass of water, which he was gingerly sipping.

As he went to take another bite of his toast, the doorbell rang. He frowned. Who could it be at this hour?

Without thinking he opened his door to find the snub-nosed end of a gun shoved in his face. Behind it, a furious Eponine.

"Eponine, what the actual _fuck_!?" he said. Beads of sweat began forming immediately on his forehead.

"Get inside the house, Mike. You and I are going to have a discussion about your recent behaviour". She took a step forward menacingly and he responded in kind, taking two steps backwards into the house.

"I…I don't know what you're talking about", he said, all the while looking at the gun in her hand.

"Is that right? What about _this_?" she said, pulling out her phone with the other hand. Using that hand, and keeping the gun trained on him, she opened her picture gallery to the photo of his text conversation and held it up to his face.

She'd never seen anyone pale quite so fast. She took another step towards him and he moved from the foyer into the living room. Eponine locked the door behind her then followed.

"You? You did this to me, didn't you? You _poisoned_ me?" he asked.

She raised her eyebrow and shrugged. "You're not going to _die_, Mike. It was an over-the-counter laxative" She looked over to his plate of toast. "I daresay the effects have pretty much worn off by now, yes?"

He narrowed his eyes at Eponine. "You wouldn't really hurt me, Eponine". Not a question, a statement.

In response, she removed the safety and cocked the gun, pointing it again at his face. "You'd be surprised what people can do Mike, what people are _willing_ to do when they and their loved ones are put in jeopardy".

He flinched, trying to move further back in his chair, away from the gun and putting his hands up to shield himself.

"Don't test me, Mike", she menaced. "Now", she smiled, "where shall we begin? Oh yes, why are you trying to get photos of you and I together? Who is it you're working with?"

"You wouldn't understand", he replied.

"Try me", she shot back.

"I can't. I have too much to lose. What you said before about what people are willing to do…that applies to me too".

"Don't_ fuck_ with me Mike". She could feel the anger starting to boil up in every fibre of her being.

"Alright, alright. I can't see how you knowing the truth will make it any better though".

"Start. Don't ramble. Just the facts. Go", she demanded.

"Can you at least put the gun down?" he asked.

"No".

He took a deep breath then began, "I'm being blackmailed. The building the bakery is in was taken over by a new landlord, or landord_s_ rather about 2 weeks ago. Some corporation bought it. They're threatening to throw me out, call the City Health Department on me with false accusations, if that didn't work, simply kick me out of the building, ruin me. That bakery has been in my family and part of this city for generations. I _can't_ lose it. They…they threatened my girlfriend as well. I had to send her away for her own safety. They wanted pictures of you and I together to publish in the newspapers. I don't know why. _Honestly_."

"Who's the guy you're texting? Do you know his name?"

"No. I swear I don't. He just represents their interests or so he implied".

Eponine took in what he said, and then slowly lowered the gun, shaking her head and exhaling.

"Fuck".

"You're telling me".

"No. I mean this is bigger than I thought. Mike, do you want a cup of tea?" she asked. "Maybe we can figure a way to outsmart these people, whoever they are".

"You want to make me a cup of tea? You just had a fucking _gun_ to my head!", he exclaimed.

"Yeah, well I'm sorry about that. You gave me no choice. Here!", she said, throwing the gun into his lap. "Hold that for me, will you?" She walked into his kitchen as if she lived there, finding his kettle and filling it with fresh water from the tap.

In the living room, Mike held the gun. His mouth open , gobsmacked. Something wasn't right about it_. The weight is wrong._ It was plastic. Eponine had outwitted him with a replica toy gun_. Shit!_

Behind him he heard her voice, full of mirth. "Come on now Mike, you didn't _really_ think I'd hurt you? We've been friends for a while, you and I".

"Fucking hell, Eponine! These people are not kidding around. If they knew what I'd told you, they'd – they'd…oh God".

She came up behind him with two mugs of tea in her hands, passing one to him. "Relax Mike. No-one knows. No-one is _going _to know. String them along for a few days, ok? I know someone who's had decades of going under the radar and fighting against big corporations that might might be able to help us".

"Ok. Eponine, I'm so sorry. I am so, _so_ sorry", he said wringing his hands, his handsome face lined with worry.

"Well, you're going to help me fix it, so don't fret about it", she said plainly. "Just out of curiosity, what would your girlfriend have thought of all this…you flirting with me, our picture on the front page etcetera? I can't imagine she would have been very happy".

"She knew most of it. But I think it would have hurt her just the same", he admitted. "And Enjolras?"

"I think we both know what his reaction would be, _don't_ we?" she shot back.

Mike thought back to the news articles he'd seen about Les Amis, the fiery performances, the confrontation in the alley. He shuddered. For a brief moment he pondered which would be the worst of two fates; the wrath of Enjolras or that of the mysterious corporation.

* * *

Enjolras and Les Amis were getting ready to go on stage at _Stubb's B-B-Q_, a famous live venue in Austin. The smell of the barbecue came wafting out of the restaurant as they did a final tune up on their instruments.

It was hot under the lights, even though winter was approaching. As they made their way onstage, Enjolras and Combeferre set their eagle-eyes out into the crowd, looking for potential troublemakers. But if they were there, they looked no different to anyone else at the venue. Bahorel, at the side of the stage, punched his hand into his fist, readying himself just in case.

The rest of the band ran on, and in a moment, they launched into their version of Dylan's 'All Along the Watchtower – the song Eponine had first chosen for the band, many moons ago.

_There must be some kind of way out of here,"  
Said the joker to the thief,  
"There's too much confusion,  
I can't get no relief.  
Businessman they drink my wine,  
Plowman dig my earth  
None will level on the line, nobody offered his word, hey"_

_"No reason to get excited,"_  
_The thief, he kindly spoke_  
_"There are many here among us_  
_Who feel that life is but a joke_  
_But you and I, we've been through that_  
_And this is not our fate_  
_So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late"_

It was a tough crowd, and they were newcomers here but eventually the passion and the musicianship won over the crowd. It was filled not only with Occupy supporters but music-lovers, and to the great relief of Les Amis, by the end of their set they had the crowd eating out of the palm of their hands.

By the time they were done, they'd all – as usual – left everything up on the stage. Covered with sweat and drained from the effort they ran off stage to pats on the back from the crowd and loud cheers of approval.

As they made their way out of the venue, a large group of men on either side of the exit moved forward, surrounding them. One group was holding Occupy signs, the other only angry glares and clenched fists. As Les Amis exited, both sides encircled them, jostling them as they tried to move forward and out of the way.

"Shit!" said Marius, grabbing hold of Cosette's hand. Behind him a man lifted his leg and kicked, landing it in the middle of Marius' back and sending both he and Cosette sprawling to the ground.

The other group were shouting "we are the ninety-nine per cent" repeatedly, but all in the group knew immediately that these were not Occupy supporters. Enjolras pushed one away whose sign was getting close to his face, only to have the man turn around and take a swing at him, catching him in the shoulder and sending him flying into Combeferre behind him. Combeferre pushed gently back on him, allowing Enjolras to get back on his feet. It was then they became of aware of flashes going off around them.

Joly, Boussuet and Musichetta were the only ones free of the ruckus, having pushed their way forward together out of the mass of bodies. Joly immediately pulled out his phone and started taking photos while Boussuet rushed back in to help Jehan who was under attack from two larger men. One had his arms pinned behind him while the other pummelled him about the face and chest. The man hitting Jehan took one look at the size of Boussuet and raised his hands.

"Hey man, I don't want no trouble" he said.

Boussuet answered by punching him clean in the face. "Then you shouldn't hurt my friends", he shot back, before turning his attention on the other man restraining Jehan. He let Jehan go and ran away into the parking lot.

Flashes continued to pop all around them. Bahorel was on top of a man, pounding into his face. Feuilly sent another flying with a hard shove to the chest before running over to assist Marius and Cosette.

People were all around them, taking photos with their phones. "Fucking hell, this is going to be all over social media", said Combeferre, trying to cover his face.

"I'm afraid you're right", said Enjolras. "Regardless of the great gig we did, this is what will get attention".

Let's get out of here", said Joly. Enjolras nodded and indicated to the others that it was time to go.

Pete, their driver was snoozing on the bus in the parking lot and was startled when Combeferre's hammering of fists on the door woke him up.

"You boys are back early – Oh dear – what's happened to you lot?" he asked, taking in their roughed up appearance as they wearily pulled themselves up the steps and collapsed inside the bus.

"Just drive Peter", implored Enjolras. He turned to look out the window of the bus as it exited the carpark. It was empty. That was quick. _Another setup?_ He looked around at the beaten faces of the band. Cosette was particularly shaken up and Marius was continuing to comfort her. _What have I got them into?_

By the time they drove the ten minutes to their hotel, there were pictures of the fight all over the internet. Instagram & Twitter were practically overrun with photos of the melee'. A particularly vicious one showed Enjolras in full flight as he recovered from being shoved. Anger was written loudly on his face. The person who had tweeted had included a caption: _"Peaceful avenger or seething anarchist?"_ It had been retweeted over five-hundred times already.

Another photo that was being widely circulated showed Bahorel sitting on the chest of one the attackers, about to punch him, his fist clenched. In the background of the photo was Bossuet's tall figure standing intimidatingly over a man.

"Jesus, these look _really_ bad, man", said Combeferre as he handed his phone over for Enjolras to take a look.

Enjolras looked at the photos before lowering his head and running his hands angrily through this hair.

"Damn it!" he said, getting up and throwing his papers frustratedly across the width of the bus. "We got ambushed again!"

"It's going to be really difficult to fight this Enjolras. These retweets are increasing every minute", said Feuilly.

"I know, I know. I need to talk to Jean. I'll call him now", he said, reaching over to unplug his phone which had been recharging. It was only then he saw the text from Eponine. _Call me when you get this. We might have trouble here as well._

* * *

By the time Enjolras made his call, Eponine had been home for over an hour. She's changed into her pyjamas and was sitting quietly in the living room, Mumford & Sons playing on low volume in the background and a glass of wine in her hand.

She picked up the phone as soon as she saw who was calling.

"Hey", she said softly.

"Hey yourself", he replied. After all the confusion and angst of the day, it was a relief to hear the sweetness of her voice, even though he could hear the twinge of anxiety in it. "What happened? What's going on 'Ponine?"

"You know how I thought something was off with Mike? Yeah, well something is really off with Mike. I'll keep it short. He's being blackmailed to get me in a compromising photo, so you'll come home and it will disrupt the Occupy tour". She exhaled afterwards, happy to finally share it with someone else.

"That bastard, I'll – "

"Enjolras, they're threatening his girlfriend and his bakery. This is not all on him", she said.

"And he just gave this information to you?" pressed Enjolras.

"No, I had to…push him to give it to me", she replied.

"You didn't break any laws did you?"

"Is wielding a toy gun and forcing your way into someone's house against the law?" she asked cheekily.

"Jesus Eponine!"

"Don't worry. He's on _our _side now. I told him to play it cool till we sorted it out. I need to speak with Valjean", she continued.

"Yes, so do I."

"Why did something happen?"

"Go onto your laptop 'Ponine, type in hashtag OccupyAustin and hashtag LesAmis. I'll wait". She put the phone on speaker as she pulled out the laptop on the coffee table. Quickly logging in, she went to Twitter. A moment passed before he could hear her swearing in the background. "Oh shit. What? Oh no. No".

In a minute she was back on the line. "How did that happen, Enj? Those photos are terrible."

"We got ambushed. By two groups, probably of the same origin, but one pretending to be Occupy supporters, the other masquerading as good ol' boys. I can fight it in a rally but social media is really difficult to combat. People just jump on the pictures before they know the full story".

"You need to get on the news, Enjolras. This could put the tour in jeopardy. Venues will be reluctant to host you if they think your shows bring violence".

"I know. I'll try to tonight, but it might be too late. So, probably tomorrow. Do you need me to come home?"

"No. Absolutely _not_. That's what Mike and his blackmailers wanted. I'm fine. We're fine", she said reassuringly.

He thought about how nice it might be to hold her right now. He knew they both needed it. Not even sexually, just to know the other was there as comfort. He missed holding her tiny body that housed her resilient spirit.

Similar thoughts were taking place in Eponine's mind. How much she'd like to be in his arms right now, looking at his handsome face while they were talking.

"I know. You're always fine", he said.

"Will you sing me a song while I go to sleep?" she asked, suddenly weary from the day.

He blinked hard, the request touching him in that place she always managed to find in his heart. Even now, sitting here after the chaos of the gig, and her own tumultuous day, he felt her reaching to him across the distance.

"Sure", he said, picking up his acoustic guitar and moving to the back of the bus while the others sat around the dining table. "Any requests?" he asked.

"You choose", she replied, listening to him as she strummed the guitar.

He cleared his throat and began, after a brief instrumental the words echoed through the bus of The Verve's "Lucky Man".

_Happiness  
More or less  
It's just a change in me  
Something in my liberty  
Oh, my, my  
Happiness  
Coming and going  
I watch you look at me  
Watch my fever growing  
I know just where I am_

_But how many corners do I have to turn?_  
_How many times do I have to learn_  
_All the love I have is in my mind?_

_Well, I'm a lucky man_  
_With fire in my hands_

_Happiness_  
_Something in my own place_  
_I'm standing naked_  
_Smiling, I feel no disgrace_  
_With who I am_

_Happiness_  
_Coming and going_  
_I watch you look at me_  
_Watch my fever growing_  
_I know just who I am_

_But how many corners do I have to turn?_  
_How many times do I have to learn_  
_All the love I have is in my mind?_

_I hope you understand_  
_I hope you understand_

_Gotta love that'll never die_

_Happiness_  
_More or less_  
_It's just a change in me_  
_Something in my liberty_  
_Happiness_  
_Coming and going_  
_I watch you look at me_  
_Watch my fever growing_  
_I know_  
_Oh, my, my_  
_Oh, my, my_

He finished, placing the guitar pick next to him on the bed. "Still awake?" he asked into the phone.

Eponine sighed into the phone. "That was beautiful. I really needed to hear something like that, my day was ugly, you know?"

"And I needed to sing to someone beautiful", he replied.

"Who are you and what have you done with _Enjolras_", she said, surprised.

"I know, I know. But I'm tired and I miss you", he replied, rubbing his eyes.

"I miss you too. Tomorrow will be better. Goodnight Enj"

"Goodnight 'Ponine".


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N**: I don't think there's a need for too much input from me, save that we see the core of what Les Amis are about in this chapter. I will say that Penn Valley Park in Kansas City is where the Occupy protesters were actually encamped. This is a shorter chapter but there's more to come – and sooner.

Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

**Songs listened to:**

'_People have the Power' by Patti Smith_

'_Imagine' by John Lennon_

* * *

_The power to dream, to rule  
To wrestle the earth from fools  
But it's decreed the people rule  
But it's decreed the people rule_

_Listen, I believe everythin' we dream  
Can come to pass through our union  
We can turn the world around  
We can turn the earth's revolution_

_We have the power  
People have the power  
People have the power  
People have the power_

_- '__People have the Power' by Patti Smith_

* * *

Enjolras was sitting on a bench in the garden of the latest hotel they'd pulled into, his guitar in hand. After Austin they'd ventured further across the border and into Oklahoma, playing one gig there at a rally in Oklahoma City that had gone off without a hitch, and completing the usual round of radio interviews, before moving on to Kansas.

Thankfully, after the maelstrom of attention that had come from the scuffle in Austin, Enjolras had managed to obtain an interview with CNN, who had incidentally, also been seeking to speak with him about the same event. Anderson Cooper was particularly concerned that as the group and movement's chief media supporter, that any violence would see the network image tarnished.

So, Enjolras got his request that same night; a local news crew affiliated with CNN came out to interview him. He'd given an impassioned plea to viewers that, "Our agenda is not one of violence. The _only_ agenda that Occupy have - in however many causes it embodies - is to bring attention to the power that people have in themselves. The power of self-determination. We continue to call for non-violence and support the free speech rights of our protestors. There have been varying reports of infiltrators in the Occupy camp, looking to discredit us. To them I say; we will _not _bow, we will _not_ be swayed from our goals. In the big picture and in the larger scheme of things, the general population are supporting a movement that supports systemic change – and that scares a lot of people."

As soon as it was done, CNN transmitted it via all its social media outlets and for the time being at least, any tainting of the cause had been quelled. The photos were still out there in the public domain but there was nothing to be done about it, except to move on.

So now, here he was in Kansas City, strumming on his guitar and desperately trying to finish writing the earwig that would not go away.

He strummed the guitar quietly while he sang, trying to find the rest of the words for the song.

_One song glory, one song before I go  
Glory, one song to leave behind  
Find one song, one last refrain  
Glory, from the pretty boy front man_

_Who wasted opportunity  
One song, he had the world at his feet  
Glory, in the eyes of a young girl  
A young girl, find glory_

_Beyond the cheap coloured lights  
One song, before the sun sets  
Glory, on another empty life_

And that was it. That was as far as he was able to get before a brick wall came crashing down in his brain. _Why can't I write this song?_ He kicked at the grass under his feet in frustration. _There was no time for this_, he decided. They had a big rally tonight at Penn Valley Park, supporting movement members that had been camped there by the Federal Reserve Bank building for many weeks.

The group were on edge, this rally was going to be another big one. And that meant they needed to be ready for similar disruptions to the one they faced in Austin. After Combeferre had said the violence needed to be combated with peace, Enjolras had sat down with him and Jehan to work out their strategy. Once they had it in place, the whole group got on the wire to every single Occupy movement around the country. If it went the way they thought, not only would their point be made about the nature of Occupy supporters, but it would also expose those looking to do them harm.

* * *

_**New York**_

Eponine had been working tirelessly with Valjean to come up with a solution. He'd advised Eponine and Mike to continue to play the game, but to make sure the next time a meeting was planned to again find a spot where taking a photo would be nigh on impossible. For a little while, Mike could blame it on Eponine and the choice of venue. But that would only last so long. They needed to find out exactly who was involved in it and what the endgame was for them.

Valjean and a small group of trusted employees had taken on the task of looking into the corporation behind the takeover of Mike's building. So far, they'd only come up with a name; Le Conceil. Translated to English it meant The Council but Valjean was certain it also meant to hide. But to hide what? And from whom? Council implied that there was more than one person behind it, it almost sounded official. This thought concerned him more than any other. They needed to know who this new, faceless enemy was.

Eponine, on her part made sure she did not give away that she knew anything. She kept to her routine, delivering food, having coffee in her usual café', even finding time for an appointment with a hairdresser to put some deep red highlights in her dark brown hair. The event was unusual for her, and it was all she could do to stop herself from slapping the hairdresser's hands away as he fussed over her. But she admitted to herself the scalp massage that accompanied the shampoo section of her appointment was pleasant – even as she wished they were Enjolras' hands soothing the tension from her scalp.

Enjolras had told her that tonight was a large rally, and she felt a slight return of tension at the memory of the conversation. He was more than equipped to look after himself - she'd see that with her own eyes. And yet she still yearned for the night to be over and for them now to be in the midst of a recap and all her fears allayed.

She paid the hairdresser and exited the salon, where her van and the afternoon deliveries awaited her.

* * *

_**Kansas City**_

The night came quickly in the city. There was a feeling of togetherness in the group. They could feel it, each of them. No-one was squabbling. Enjolras' general impatience with being on the road had subsided. He was sitting with them in the dining area of the tour bus, gathered around the table as Peter told them stories of his heyday.

"Dylan was something", he was saying. "Him and Joan Baez – they could rally a whole park full of people into a peaceful protest". He looked around at the young, earnest faces at the table.

"You guys are like that", he continued. "Do you know that? Do you know how much good it does an old man's heart to see a younger generation giving a crap? I only wish _I _was younger so I could get out there with you."

He immediately felt Jehan's warm hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you Pete? Why don't you lock up the bus and come to the rally tonight?"

"Oh yes Peter, please come tonight", agreed Cosette.

Instinctively he looked to Enjolras, who nodded. "I think it's a good idea. You can stay with Cosette, Musichetta and Bossuet when we go on, if you like?"

"That'd be grand", said Peter. He lifted his large frame from the table and moved towards the front of the bus. "Right now though, it's time to get going you lot – the rally starts in just under two hours."

They lingered a little longer at the table, not eager to break the feeling of being connected they shared at that moment.

"So", said Combeferre, "We're all clear on what's going to happen tonight if we get trouble, yes?.

"Clear", said Feuilly.

"Hands to myself", added Bahorel as he looked at his battle worn knuckles.

"Calm heads", said Enjolras.

"Crystal clear", said Jehan.

"I'll watch out for the girls" said Bossuet.

"I can look after myself, thank you", shot back Musichetta, touching him lightly on the face.

"Cosette?" asked Marius.

"Oh pffft, Marius. I'm not as delicate as you think". She looked mildly offended before offering him a smile.

"Alright then, said Enjolras, "Let's get ready".

* * *

The crowd at Penn Valley Park was one of the largest the group had yet encountered outside of New York City. As before, along with the crowd came the news crews – both from television and radio stations alike. As Peter found a place to park the bus some distance away, Enjolras prayed they had gotten to all the Occupy leaders in the area in time, and that they, in turn had been able to contact their supporters.

Getting off the bus with the others, he was heartened by the group. When they were united this way it made the time apart from Eponine that much more bearable, though he would surely never let them know it. They weren't going to be playing with their own instruments at this rally, but he was sure it would come off well. As they finally crossed the main road into the park he took a good look. The numbers must have been in the thousands already. _We're growing._

They were the first ones to be announced on the stage. They ran on in full flight and launched immediately into _"Red and Black"_, getting the mostly seated crowd to their feet. They followed it with _"Talkin' bout a Revolution"_, and then finally _"Do You Hear the People Sing_". By the time they were done, the crowd was larger, and swaying to the music, hands held high and clenched with their neighbours.

A cheer went up at the sound of the last note of the song, as Enjolras wiped his brow, before speaking into the microphone, looking out into the throng.

"Good evening Kansas! As witnessed here tonight, the Occupy Wall Street movement is no longer only on the streets of New York. It's a burning ember that will light the torch of justice and inflame our longing for freedom." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It isn't enough just to scream at the Occupy demonstrations. We need our political system to start reflect this anger back into, 'How do we fix it? How do we get the economy going again?"

He walked to the other side of the stage. "The Occupy movement means making Wall Street and the corporate power elite understand that the people affected by this binge of unregulated greed are not going away, and we are _not_ going to give up. These protests are shining a national spotlight on the most pressing needs of our time. If there is one thing I know, it is that the one percent loves a crisis. When people are panicked and desperate and no one seems to know what to do, that is the ideal time to push through their wish list of pro-corporate policies: privatizing education and social security, slashing public services, getting rid of the last constraints on corporate power. Amidst the economic crisis, this is happening the world over"

"And there is only one thing that can block this tactic, and fortunately, it's a very big thing: the ninety-nine percent. And that ninety-nine percent is taking to the streets from Madison Avenue to Madrid to say "No. We will not pay for _your_ crisis."

A huge roar emanated from the crowd at his last words. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to look at the rest of Les Amis, and into the crowd where Peter stood with Cosette, Musichetta and Bossuet. And for a second his thoughts turned to Eponine in New York. And for a moment, the public marble man softened.

He smiled. "My favourite sign here tonight says, _I care about you. _ In a culture that trains people to avoid each other's gaze, to say _Let them die_, that is a deeply radical statement". And then he raised his fist to the air, pumping hard.

"We are the ninety-nine percent, we are the ninety-nine percent!", and the chant echoed from the mouths of those in the park, ever louder and ever more passionate.

The group descended from the small stage, exhilarated by their performance but eager to hear the words of their fellow cause members.

The local leaders were as equally as passionate as Les Amis, if not quite as eloquent as Enjolras. Still, the crowd kept them buoyed and none of the speakers wasted their time. They pushed local Occupy issues, as well as reflecting back towards Wall Street. By the time they were an hour into the rally, it was clear the assembled crowd would only grow larger.

And it was then the scuffle broke out. Almost located perfectly central in the crowd, a large group had started fighting, ripping down each other's signs and kicking over belongings of others. It rippled out like the touch of a butterfly on the wind. First two, then ten, then thirty people were shouting and angry – in full view of the news and radio crews.

Instead of trying to placate them however or becoming involved themselves, the crowd in the park began silently turning their backs on them and sitting down, creating a fortress of peace. It spread like dominoes throughout Penn Valley Park until the only ones left standing were the thirty or forty troublemakers, local police and the media – who had captured every single moment.

Near the front of the stage, Enjolras turned around quietly to view it. It was quite something, he decided - what people power could really achieve. In one action they had achieved two goals; exposed the agent provocateurs in the crowd and proven that the core values of the Occupy movement were not anarchy nor was it violence.

The troublemakers were led away by the police who had no choice but to do so, with so many digital eyes watching. As they were led away, a cheer went up from the crowd. Next to Enjolras, Combeferre and Jehan smiled.

"Well done. It was a brilliant idea", Enjolras said, giving them a sidelong glance and a wry grin. Before he could utter another word, he turned to the stage as Boussuet, Musichetta, Peter and Cosette in front of the microphone. And then came the words, though badly sung by all except Musichetta – the sound of John Lennon's _"Give Peace a Chance"_.

It was picked up by the rest of the gathered crowd, and by Les Amis.

_All we are saying is give peace a chance  
All we are saying is give peace a chance_

The chanting went on for more than half an hour._ We can do it_, thought Enjolras. _We won't be beaten down by corporate thuggery_.

* * *

**New York**

In a boardroom high above Manhattan streets, the images of Penn Valley Park were being filtered onto a large screen television.

"Keep at it".

"They'll pull this at every rally."

"We've had no luck with the baker and that girl either."

"It doesn't matter. Keep at it anyway for now. I have something else in mind. Something that will pull the rug from under all of them".


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: **No notes this time, aside from saying this was a difficult chapter to write. I hope you enjoy it, if that is the right word.

Constructive criticism and reviews welcome

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own the characters from Les Miserables, but I do like to take them out for a spin once in a while to play. I've played with timelines from both the story by the marvellous Victor Hugo, and the actual accounts of the Occupy movement. Be kind, it's about reader enjoyment after all. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_Empty spaces  
__What are we living for?  
__Abandoned places  
__I guess we know the score  
__On and on, does anybody know  
__what we are looking for?_

_Another hero  
__Another mindless crime  
__Behind the curtain  
__In the pantomime  
__Hold the line, does anybody know  
__what we are living for?__  
_

_The show must go on  
__The show must go on  
__Inside my heart is breaking  
__My make-up may be flaking,  
__but my smile still stays on__  
_

_ - Queen, "The Show Must Go On_

* * *

Enjolras sat on the bunk bed at the rear of the deserted tour bus. Exhausted from yet another intense phone call with Eponine, they were increasingly serving not to make his sexual tension any less but rather _increase_ it. Phone sex with her was simply not enough for him any more. Hearing her voice on the line fell sadly short. He wanted to feel his lips on hers, hear the urgent moans in his ears, her fingernails on his back and the warmth of her body closing around his in the height of passion. _Together_ – not separated by thousands of miles and connected only by a phone line.

And it wasn't just the sex. He missed the glorious dimples in her smile. The way she made him warm cocoa after a particularly bad day as if she were psychic. Damn it, he even missed fighting with her in the living room. He could see her enraged face as he absent-mindedly goaded her into an argument about modern day feminism. And the image did not dismay him. He loved her fire. The sound of her deep laughter in response to winning a laugh from _him_. Absence seemed to make the heart more desperate, and yes, fonder, he had to admit.

He sighed deeply before rearranging his pants and making his way towards the bathroom. In the three weeks since they'd played Kansas City and made their stand against violence, things seemed to have settled. They were still occasionally met by anarchists in the crowd, seeking to disrupt them, but by using the same tactic of turning their backs these groups had no-one to fight and stood out like sore thumbs in the crowd. It was immensely satisfying to Enjolras and the group to see that such a simple action had enormous ramifications for the movement.

The positivity flowed into news reports about Occupy gatherings. Despite the occasional grumbles from city officials and small business owners about the disruptions when Occupy took over a park or a town centre to rally – most people were supportive of the movement in general.

They were now stationed in Seattle, Washington after making stops at rallies in Colorado, Utah and Nevada. The last stop had been hard for him, and for the others. When they stopped in Las Vegas no-one had been able to escape the fact that Grantaire and Courfeyrac would have been in their elements in this bright, gaudy town in the middle of the desert. Courfeyrac, thought Enjolras, would have been knee-deep in showgirls, whilst Grantaire would have taken full advantage of the slot machines and the free drinks handed about. So much had happened since their deaths but the boys were never far from any of their minds, particularly in places where he could almost see them. In a city of so much shallow joy, the group found they could hardly muster a smile, the memories had been so strong. It was almost a relief when they finally departed.

Tonight, the others had gone off into Seattle in search of landmarks of the Grunge period; bars and clubs that had played host to the greats; Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney and Nirvana to name only a few.

Enjolras looked at this phone. It had been a few days since he'd spoken with Valjean. Checking his watch he realised it was almost eleven o'clock, which meant it was two a.m. in New York. He didn't want to disturb Valjean so late, but made a mental note to call him tomorrow.

* * *

Eponine was also wide awake, even though it was just past two a.m. in the morning. She didn't know if Enjolras was feeling it as well, but the phone calls while exciting and with an edge of naughtiness about them, were not as satisfying as they had been previously. Nothing, not even Enjolras himself on the other end of the phone line could replace Enjolras, warm-bodied and able, here in her bed.

He was at the furthest point from her now that he would be on the entire tour – close to three thousand miles away. She tried unsuccessfully to block the distance from her mind, which was going in circles. Should she leave for a weekend to catch up with Enjolras on tour? How would that affect his mindset and that of the others? They already had so many distractions. Could her fledgling organisation afford for her to leave, even for a short time?

As she pondered this, her thoughts turned to Jean Valjean. He'd spoken to her over a brief morning tea two days prior. He was pleased with the progress of The Village Harvest and the positive impact it was so obviously having in the neighbourhood. He was concerned about her though, he could see that the spark normally so obvious in her eyes, was waning slightly. It was he who had first put the thought of flying out to see Enjolras in her mind.

"Don't be like me, Eponine", he'd said to her.

"What do you mean? Many would aspire to be like you", she replied. _Myself included_.

"In business, perhaps. I'm a lonely old man, 'Ponine. If not for Cosette my heart would have withered and died long ago", he said sadly, quietly missing his daughter.

"Oh Jean. But surely there have been women in your life?" Eponine felt no embarrassment talking this way with him. She found him to be a comfort, like a warm blanket with a hidden dose of inspiration.

"Briefly. But none who could put up with me and my work, at any hour of the day or night", he'd replied.

"Well, you are quite feisty, and probably a handful", she'd shot back, bringing a smile to his face.

"Takes one to know one", he'd said and for a moment she got a glimpse of the young Valjean.

She chuckled deeply at him.

"So, what would you have me do? Fly out there to see him?"

He took a sip of his coffee before nodding. "Two or three days will not hurt your business. Have your drivers briefed thoroughly and that should ensure it all goes well. And you have your cell phone just in case".

She finished her coffee and rose from the table. "I'll think about it and let you know in a few days, ok? And thanks for the coffee". He stood and she gave him a light hug.

As she walked away he called after her, "Remember Eponine, time waits for no man – and no woman".

She'd grinned at him and given a last wave goodbye.

* * *

Now, sitting in the comfort of her bedroom she pondered his words. _Maybe I should go to see Enjolras._ Things with Mike had settled down. As far as either of them could tell, they were no longer being tailed. Mike had received no more phone messages nor any further meeting requests from his mysterious friend.

Both had found it odd and remained on guard, yet as the weeks went passed and the feeling of being observed receded, their relationship returned slowly to the friendly business affiliation they had enjoyed before. Eponine was slowly growing more and more confident in her abilities to run the company. Something she put down to her own hidden talents but also to the confidence shown in her by Enjolras and Valjean. Neither was the type to give her false praise and she took it to heart when they put faith in her choices.

She looked over to the side of the bed that was now normally occupied by her fair haired man. Taking a deep breath, she hugged his pillow to her face, trying to inhale the scent of him deep into her senses. It was fading though, and in a few weeks it would be gone.

The thought of it was enough to convince her that perhaps Jean was right. A few days absence would not be any real burden on The Village Harvest. She would speak with Jean tomorrow and let him know of her plans to fly across country.

* * *

_The next day, New York City._

Valjean walked hurriedly along Fifth Avenue. He needed something to eat and and ten or fifteen minutes of contemplation in his favourite place - the French Gardens of Central Park North - before calling Enjolras and Eponine and letting them know what he'd discovered. Finally, he had found the information he'd sought and would be able to expose some of the biggest names standing in the way of the Occupy Movement. He'd come across it himself only this morning but before disclosing it to his team he wanted first to inform Enjolras and Eponine instead.

As he made his way through the throng of the bustling midday crowd, he quickly stepped out of the way of a man barrelling towards him. Even for a New Yorker, the guy was making remarkable haste. He stepped to the left, the man stepped to the left, he stepped to the right, and again the gentleman mirrored his movement. Finally, Valjean made an attempt to step aside completely but instead found the man moving forward and accidentally bumping into his shoulder, rather painfully and sharply.

"Sorry mate", said the man, before being swallowed up in the mass of humanity that is a New York lunch break.

"No problem", he replied.

As Valjean stopped to press the pedestrian button at the crossing across from the park the drug worked quickly. Emanating out from the point of contact on his shoulder, the Hemlock made its way down his arm and up into his shoulder and chest simultaneously, paralysing his muscles and causing him to drop the bag he was carrying as well as his lunch.

He stood still for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face. And then as he felt the paralysis move to his both his legs, he was no longer under any illusion as to what was happening to him. As he went down on his knees on the sidewalk, no-one stopped to ask after his wellbeing. Not until one lady around his own age recognised his face. The kindly women stopped by him. "Jean Valjean?"

"Yes", he responded, his breathing growing ever shorter.

"Are you alright?"

He struggled to form a reply. "I think, I think….heart attack".

"I'm going to call 911, ok?" she said, rapidly dialling in the number before stating the situation and their location.

"Th-thank you", he replied as he lay down on the sidewalk staring up into the bright blue sky of a clear winter's day.

Others had heard the woman speak his name, and now many gathered around him to see if they could help. Some were trying to ask him questions, to gather the state of his illness. He could no longer answer, the poison has silenced his voice, paralysing his lips. He could only look out on them with the hopeless anguish of one trapped inside a body that had ceased to respond to its owners requests.

Through the crowd he spotted a familiar figure, ghosting its way towards him. It seemed not to notice the crowd, nor the panic beginning to envelop it. _Fantine._

_Please, not now, I haven't shared what I found, _he implored with his eyes. _They need this_.

As if an opaque screen had been pulled down in front of his eyes, familiar scenes from the past began to flash before him; his rough upbringing, the turbulence and uncertainty of life on the streets, his salvation at the hands of the community assisting the homeless and his friendship with the frail and damaged Fantine. Fantine, whose untimely death had led him to the greatest love he had ever known, Cosette.

More scenes came to him, as the paralysis became complete and he felt the tightening of his lungs and the slowing of his heart.

Sitting with Enjolras at the table, discussing all the issues they both held dear. _This is the future, _he thought. Laughing at the quick-witted and street smart Eponine. Oh, how he adored them both. Now, he was watching Les Amis on stage and feeling the rush of his own youth in them all.

Fantine's translucent image was beside him now, smiling down at him comfortingly despite the chaos going on around them.

"Am I redeemed, Fantine? Did I do enough? Is my soul cleansed? And Cosette? What of my child?" he asked, though never a word passed his frozen lips.

"You kept your promise to me, dear friend. Cosette is safe. And Marius loves her so. He will never leave her."

"I can't leave them. I have something for them. But Fantine I'm tired, I'm so tired". A solitary tear ran down his weary face.

Fantine ran phantom fingers through his greying hair. "It's time to rest now Jean Valjean. You've done more than enough good in this world. Come with me to the next".

As his lungs stopped midway through a breath, he took her hand and Jean Valjean; thief, hacker, saviour, philanthropist, inspiration and father, blinked his eyes one last time as the ambulance pulled on to the sidewalk.

The woman who had stopped to help him saw the light leave his eyes, even as they remained open in paralysis and gently, before the medics got to him, she laid a hand over his face and gently closed them. He was gone. His body looked at peace, somehow smaller now that the spirit within had left. His face had softened too, the kindly but lined visage of one who had fought many battles and been the victor in all, save this one.

The woman looked up before making the sign of the cross on her chest, saying a small prayer for the soul of Jean Valjean. The medics called her over for questioning before allowing her to leave and get on with her day, which was now tinged with sadness.

* * *

_All your grief  
__At last, at last behind you  
__Lord in Heaven  
__Look down on him in mercy._

_Take my hand  
__I'll lead you to salvation  
__Take my love  
__For love is everlasting_

_And remember  
__The truth that once was spoken  
__To love another person  
__Is to see the face of God.__  
_

* * *

In Seattle, the group were lined up to get their breakfast at the latest Best Western hotel. Before them tables were lined with all the trimmings of a continental breakfast. Cosette suddenly froze where she stood as a wave of fear and a feeling of loss took hold of her. She dropped the plate she was holding and eggs were sent flying to the ground as the ceramic smashed against the tiles below. Ignoring it, Cosette rapidly pulled her phone from her bag, hitting the speed dial.

"What's wrong, Cosette?" asked Marius worriedly. "Cosette?" The others gathered around her, concerned.

"Nothing. I mean…I don't know. I just have the strangest feeling something is wrong. I need to call Papa".

* * *

_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
__Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
__Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
__Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.__  
_

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
__Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,  
__Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,  
__Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.__  
_

_The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;  
__Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;  
__Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.  
__For nothing now can ever come to any good.__  
_

_ - W.H Auden_

* * *

**A/N:** Valjean thought he was having a heart attack but he was actually being paralysed. Hemlock or Conium is a highly toxic flowering plant indigenous to Europe and South Africa. It was a popular one with the ancient Greeks, who used it to kill off their prisoners. For an adult, the ingestion of 100mg of conium or about 8 leaves of the plant is fatal – death comes in the form of paralysis, your mind is wide awake, but your body doesn't respond and eventually the respiratory system shuts down. Probably the most famous hemlock poisoning is that of Greek philosopher, Socrates. Condemned to death for impiety in 399 BC, he was given a very concentrated infusion of hemlock.


End file.
